Seven Years
by ForMyself
Summary: A Robin falls through a portal from another world and Nightwing doesn't like it one bit. Batman is nostalgic, but was this really how Dick was at that age? Damian, Tim and Jason fall somewhere in between plot devices and background comic relief. :) I uploaded this incorrectly earlier, so please enjoy this as it was initially intended. :) Please Review!
1. Holy Double Trouble, Batman!

**So I've never written anything rated 'M' before, so please, if you're here for something more like my other stories, please don't flame. :) This story just wouldn't leave me alone so I had to get it out somehow. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy! I also apologize for an uncharacteristic tense anomalies or slight grammatical errors as I am pretty sick and I really can't bring myself to reread this for the fourth time trying to fix stupid errors. :P Leave comments!**

* * *

The Justice League; that is the few members of said organization who were able to respond to the distress call, were surrounded. Wonder Woman, Superman, The Flash and in Batman's stead, Nightwing, really had no idea what they had just tripped themselves over but now they were in an under-earth cavern surrounded by what appeared to be miniature Solomon Grundies. It would have been cute; if they weren't trying to eat them alive, that is.

"This so isn't what I had in mind when you asked me to rejoin the League," Nightwing quipped as he batted away a zombie and Superman sprayed several more with his heat vision.

"Is it really that different from when you were Batman?" The Flash asked, trying to suck the air out or their assailant's lungs only to then remember that the undead don't breathe. He went back to his barrage of punches.

Wonder Woman seemed to have finally have had enough as she cried out a warrior's call and rammed seven into the cave wall. "By Hera, where are they all coming from?"

Nightwing had been pondering the same question when suddenly, and embarrassingly, he noticed a flashing light just down through the cavern. It was embarrassing as if Batman had a recording of this and had seen how long it had taken his former ward to spot the obvious thing that didn't belong, he would have his head on a silver platter.

"Down here!" He waved, throwing a smoke bomb to cover their escape. The JL members scurried down through the dark, dank, earthen passage carefully and as quietly as possible as the smoke surely must have cleared by now. But 'Grundy not too bright' so Nightwing figured baby Grundies weren't either.

As they came closer to the light, Superman held out an arm. "Stop," he whispered and a look of extreme concentration crossed his face. Nightwing fidgeted.

"What is it?" The Flash asked, having less patience than the former Boy Wonder.

"An incantation?" Superman frowned.

"Then we have found her," Wonder Woman concluded, triumphantly. She pulled out her sword in place of her lasso, obviously deciding that Hecate, the Greek goddess of witchcraft and the night, was unworthy of such mercy. "We move with caution." The males allowed her to take point, deferring to her greater experience with the inhuman gods.

When they turned the corner into the stone room the light had led them to, Nightwing felt his stomach knot. An extreme and wholly unwanted wave of déjà vu swept over him. Hecate, as beautiful and terrifying as ever, shot her ghostly gaze towards the heroes, but did not cease in her spell-weaving. Instead, she waved her arms and began to rise in the air, a strange glittering portal opening behind her.

"Retrieve the amulet!" Wonder Woman commanded as more ghouls and undead began to crawl out of the walls of the room in such a way that Nightwing knew for a fact he would be having nightmares the next time he slept.

The amulet Wonder Woman had referred to was, of course, the source of the necromancy, so fighting the unholy creatures would have been fruitless if someone did not move quickly to retrieve it from Hecate's neck. As Hecate formed dark tendrils around The Flash's legs, Nightwing decided that someone would have to be him. Wonder Woman and Superman held their own against the new wave of enemies and tried to keep the strays off of Nightwing as he tried to dodge Hecate's mystic gaze shooting fire at him; all the while her chanting never missing a beat.

What could only be described as purple lightning began to spark from the portal behind the goddess, whose face was now contorting with rage and utter annoyance as her efforts to keep Nightwing at bay fell flat. The masked hero sprang forward, summersaulting in the air to avoid a particularly well aimed fire bolt, and landed close enough to the enchantress that he could reach out and grab the amulet. Hecate's arms were apparently not under her own control as they shuddered with the portal's growth and she made no move to hit him away. He shot his arm out to grab the magical pendant before she could shoot at him again, which, at this distance, would have surely killed him. Suddenly, the cavern fell silent and the utter change from the cacophony before was deafening. That was when Nightwing realized with dread what he had done.

He had wrapped his hand around the charm in the exact instant that Hecate had finished her unknown spell. He glanced up at her, knowing that the other heroes were starring too, the undead having fallen to the earthen floor. Hecate glared daggers at him and she shrieked.

"YOU FOOL!" But before she could unleash her full fury, the portal behind her began to surge and convulse and Hecate seemed to lose any semblance of control as all five of them were flung from the cave by a great force. Nightwing rubbed the back of his head and blinked away his dizziness. He just barely caught sight of a livid Hecate before she snatched the amulet from the floor and vanished in the blink of an eye, realizing she had been beaten. _Coward_, Nightwing coughed absently before a sinking feeling in his gut told him otherwise.

She hadn't left because she was afraid of them, she left because of whatever had just come through the portal. Which meant it hadn't been what she had intended and she obviously didn't want to stick around to find out what had taken her desire's place.

It was a moment before Nightwing had realized that both Superman and Wonder Woman had gone to inspect the cave where the portal had been already which was a stupid thing to have to realize as, compared to him, they were practically unbreakable.

"By Hera," he heard Wonder Woman gasp as he stepped into the cave, still a little lightheaded from his collision with the stone wall.

"Uh, Dick…" he heard Flash say and the use of his civilian name sent chills down his spine. Nightwing followed their stares and finally found the source of their discomfort.

On the floor was an unconscious boy, somewhere in his mid-teens, dressed in an all too familiar arrangement of red, green and yellow. Though he lay on his stomach, Nightwing didn't have to flip him over to know that there was a giant red 'R' on his chest as well.

"What the Hell?" Nightwing asked, slack jawed.


	2. Be Careful

"He won't talk to anyone," Diana stated as assorted members of the League watched the young bird pace back and forth in the interrogation room aboard the Watchtower.

"Well," Nightwing shrugged, a little shyly. "He'll talk to _someone_."

"Uh, huh," Barry added. "And who volunteers to tell Batman about all this?"

There was an awkward and fully expected silence. Though the boy had been unconscious as he was transported aboard the Justice League's satellite, he quickly came too after the trans-mat and beamed them up. After that, it was pretty much a nightmare trying to calm down the young vigilante who was one hundred percent sure that he had been abducted by Justice League doppelgangers. Getting him into the interrogation room had been a struggle enough, so drawing blood and running a full diagnostic was still far out of the question. Dick watched the boy in lime green shorts pace anxiously. It was obvious he was working out a way to escape or deceive them somehow.

"I'll call him," Dick offered, pulling out his cell. He had no idea where to even began however so when he heard Bruce's voice on the other end he simply blurted, "Congratulations Mr. Wayne! You've won yourself a brand, spanking new Robin to add to your collection!"

* * *

There was silence in the observation room. Silence as the Dark Knight simply starred through the one-way window at the Boy Wonder who had gone from pacing to fiddling with his birdarangs. He finally turned around after what seemed like hours and asked, "What the Hell happened?"

All eyes turned to Dick who huffed and rolled his eyes beneath his mask at the loyalty of his friends. "We don't even know _which_ Robin he is," Barry added after Dick had finished the recap of their run-in with the Greek goddess.

"One of two," Bruce offered solemnly and though Dick _really _didn't want it to be _him_, he knew if that was a pre-dead Jason, things were about to get very difficult for his former mentor.

Dick nodded and moved toward the com system beside Bruce. "Yep, only two boys have worn _that_ costume. Let's find out which one this is!" He said, grinning like it was some sort of big game. Bruce gave him an exasperated side-long glare but did nothing to intervene when Dick put his gloved finger to the com-link and began talking to Robin.

"Hey, Rob, how's it going?" He asked, light heartedly, obviously enjoying this a little too much.

The Robin inside the interrogation room shot up from the table he had been resting on and took a moment before responding. "Where's Batman?"

"Gotham," Dick answered and Robin folded his arms, not quite believing the voice in the room. Bruce didn't know which boy to watch so he spilt his attention like a game of tennis. Dick continued. "So, we're all pretty much as confused as you are right now. Is it okay if I just ask you some questions? You know, just to get a feel of who you are exactly."

There was a moment as Robin shifted his weight nervously in his green pixie boots before he nodded, "Alright."

"How old are you?" Dick asked.

"Sixteen." Dick frowned. Not good enough. Jason had been sixteen when he died.

"Okay," Dick said, remembering this could also be a mini-Dick. "Who's in charge of the Titans?"

There was a brief pause, "I am."

"Oh wonderful," Dick said to the others with a mischievous grin. Though now they knew it was Dick, he wasn't done having his fun proving who this little boy was. "Does the name 'Nightwing' mean anything to you?"

"No," Robin answered.

"Perfect," Dick snickered to Bruce, whose attention was now fully wrapped around the boy. "Oh!" Dick said excitedly, and the others were beginning to understand Dick was just having fun by this point. Dick pressed the button again and spoke to Robin, "Okay, cool. Now…" He removed his finger from the button and Bruce cocked his head at him suspiciously. "Watch him freak out!" Dick said, suppressing a chuckle. He turned his attention back to the boy, "Out of all five, which number Robin are you?" Bruce smacked the young man's hand away from the button.

"Dammit Dick!"

"Wha… I don't…" Robin began to stutter, not understanding the question. Then it hit him. "FIVE!?" Older Dick laughed as the boy began banging on the window. "Where's Batman!? Get me BATMAN!"

"Really?" Bruce asked, utterly exasperated.

"Have fun interrogating _that_ mess!" Dick said as Bruce moved to the door. Dick snickered but turned back to the other heroes who wore equally disapproving looks. "What?" Dick laughed, "Batman needs a good challenge every now and again."

Bruce stepped into the interrogation room and was immediately hit with a wave of nostalgia. The boy stepped away from the window and was now sizing up Batman, readying himself for disappointment, but obviously praying for answers from his mentor. _Former mentor_, Bruce reminded himself that he hadn't just stepped into the past as Dick began to visibly relax in his presence.

"Dick," Bruce started quietly, but with still a sense of command in his voice. Robin cocked his head slightly.

"Who are you?" He asked.

Bruce frowned, "You know who I am."

Robin shook his head, his mess of black tangles flying. "No, _my _Batman doesn't use civilian names when we're masked." Batman grunted, slightly impressed. In his attempt to set the boy at ease, he had actually broken one of his rules; one that Jason, Tim and Damian had never really taken that seriously. Bruce had forgotten just how much of a good little soldier Dick had always been.

"You're wrong. I'm Batman," he said but was confused when he saw Dick flinch slightly. He sighed internally. If this boy really was sixteen, he wasn't quite used to Bruce being so direct and cold. He tried another approach and let his face relax ever so slightly into what he remembered it feeling like in his youth. "Good job though," he added slightly less intimidatingly. The way Dick's weight shifted and how his cheeks became tinged with pink made Bruce feel a sinking weight in his gut. _Simple praise shouldn't have that much effect on him_, and yet it had. Dick seemed to rethink his initial observation as he moved to the table and made himself more comfortable, sitting cross-legged on its surface.

Behind the window, Nightwing groaned. "Who honestly thought it was a good idea to let me go out in that?" Barry gave an unadulterated laugh and the attention was eventually turned back to the interrogation.

The younger Dick didn't seem to think Bruce was going to sit, so he waited patiently, a small smile playing at his lips as he watched his mentor. Bruce gave another internal sigh, feeling incredibly old. "So," he began. "Do you know where you are?"

"The Watchtower," he answered, obviously waiting for the harder questions.

Bruce nodded slightly, "Do you know _when _you are?"

That tripped him up. Dick scrunched up his face and Bruce had to try not to smile at the sheer innocence of it. "What do you mean?"

"Dick- Robin… It's 2013." Bruce watched as the information sunk in.

Dick cocked his head and began to laugh, "I travelled through time!? Awesome!" He beamed. "How old are _you_?" Then he gasped, "How old am _I_!?" He quickly did the math and in instant later he jumped up, "I'm _twenty-four_!? No freaking way!" Then he frowned. "How did I get here?"

"I was hoping you could tell me that."

* * *

"So what's the plan?" Clark asked as the Leaguers sat around an oval shaped table.

"Oh! Can I have him?" Dick asked, jokingly, but Bruce was less impressed as he was thrown a 'can-you-take-this-seriously-glare'.

"If he is from the past, we may have already done irreparable harm to our own reality by bringing him here," Diana stated.

"Oh, yeah and I'm sure telling him there are _five_ Robins helped that a lot," Barry quipped nudging Dick in the rib cage.

A thought crossed Bruce's mind suddenly and he glanced back up at Dick who was sitting directly across from him. "Dick, do you actually remember any of this?"

Dick bit his lower lip and shook his head, not unlike how the younger Robin had done earlier. "Nope! He's not me; well not, _me_."

"An alternate reality version, then?" Diana suggested.

Clark nodded, "It wouldn't be the first time we've seen how all realities don't follow the same linear time."

"Has to be," Dick said. "I mean, he's sixteen right? And I have no memory of any of this and it's not like he's young enough to just _forget_ waking up in the Watchtower and having Batman tell you it's 2013." Dick fidgeted his gloves randomly but Bruce assumed it was due to the thought of having a younger duplicate not twenty feet away.

"The amulet must have something to do with this," Barry said. Diana nodded.

"Yes, of course. Hecate opened the portal just as Nightwing grabbed it. It must be the way to send him back," she said.

"I'll contact Zatana," Clark offered, knowing that magic was now necessary.

"It will be difficult even for her to locate Hecate and then obtain the amulet," Diana started. "The boy cannot simply stay aboard the Watchtower until then."

Bruce's sudden response startled Dick and churned his stomach for unknown reasons. "He won't be. I'll take him." Dick tried to read the Dark Knight, but his cowl shielded his emotions well, even from one who knew him the best. He narrowed his eyes as a feeling washed over him of- what was it? Jealousy? No, anxiety? Probably.

There was a silent pause as glances were cast between the two heroes. Dick's anxiety and disapproval was nearly palpable, but he did not voice his concerns. He simply starred with crossed arms and pursed lips. "He needs to be in a comfortable environment," Bruce offered matter-of-factly.

"Uh, huh," Dick said, not quite believing his motives. "Well, _I'm _not refereeing mini-me and Damian." That shut Bruce up and made him feel a little uneasy. It was almost repulsive that given the chance to take this younger version of Dick home, he hadn't spared a single thought for his son who was waiting patiently back at the manor.

"Very well," Diana said, ending the awkward banter. "I shall return to Themyscira for more answers regarding the witch."

The heroes rose, ending the meeting, but Dick didn't wait for the others to begin to leave as he made his way towards the interrogation room. Bruce found him moments later, starring, cross-armed, at the boy who was beginning to show signs of fatigue. Bruce walked quietly to his former ward's side and waited patiently for him to speak his mind.

Dick swallowed, not taking his eyes off of the boy. "He's not a time-capsule for you to play with Bruce." Bruce did not look at the young man, but the words stung with the truth behind them. "You've always had a problem with letting things go," and he knew that 'letting people go' was hidden in there as well. "Just," Dick sighed and now turned towards The Bat with a slight plea hinted on his face. "Be careful."

Bruce didn't want to see Dick's face, but felt like acknowledging his request after practically jumping at the chance to own him again, or some version of him, was the least he could do. So he nodded which seemed appropriately vague enough for such a heavy-handed conversation. Dick sighed and nodded himself before turning away. As he made his way out of the room he called back.

"I'm definitely coming back to the manor tonight; you know Damian is going to throw a fit and I _so_ want to be there to see how you handle _that_!" Bruce smiled as Dick laughed and left for the transportation room.


	3. Little Bird

"Father," came the cold, cruel and calculating tone of a very miffed, very impatient Damian Wayne. "What the Hell is _that_?" The modern Boy Wonder gave a dismissive gesture towards the retro Boy Wonder who was starring back with equally disdainful regard. Nightwing chuckled at Bruce's flash of emotions as he tried his best to spit out a response. He glared at the young man, but then softened knowing he should be grateful that Dick had let him take the boy home at all.

"I was about to ask the same thing," young Dick spat. Dick was still taller than Damian, being roughly three years his senior, but as Nightwing watched the interplay, he knew if a genuine fight _did_ break out, the son of The Bat would surely have the upper-hand, no questions asked. Despite his previous threat not to help, Dick rested a red and black gloved hand on the younger's shoulder, squeezing slightly.

"Dick," he said his own name.

"_Dick_?" Damian barked, the absurdity not lost on him.

Nightwing continued, "This is Damian Wayne. He's our Robin."

Young Dick shot Nightwing a death glare. "_Our_? And who the Hell are _you_ supposed to be?"

Dick removed his hand as his eyebrows shot up with realization. "Oh," he stumbled for words and now it was Bruce's turn to chuckle. "Right! I'm… well… I'm _you_, I guess…"

Young Dick didn't seem to appreciate this little tidbit of information any more than Damian. "Why aren't _you_ Robin?" The accusation in the boy's tone was… painful… to say the least and Dick was sharply reminded of his youthful fantasy of flying by Batman as the Boy Wonder for the rest of life. He glanced at Bruce who, though under a cowl, seemed just as stunned by the venom and Dick saw what seemed to be a hint of sadness there as well.

"Uh…" Nightwing began, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Surprisingly, it was Damian who stepped up to his defense. "He doesn't _need_ to be Robin. Grayson is his _own_ man." Both Bruce and Nightwing regarded the young boy with surprise.

"Well, gosh, Dami…" Nightwing began honesty touched, but it became evident that heart-warming accommodation had been inspired more by spite than actual sentiment.

"And I don't know who _you _think you are, but you're _not_ Robin!" Damian was an intelligent, astoundingly resourceful, well-rounded little prodigy. Damian was also a spoiled rotten brat who never learned how to share.

Dick folded his arms and held his ground, despite how dangerously close Damian was to invading his personal space. "Says the kid wearing _my_ insignia."

"I'm going to kick your…"

"Enough!" Barked Bruce who yanked his son back roughly by his black and yellow hood. Nightwing noticed the playful, adoring smile Dick wore at being defended by Bruce and he felt a lump in his throat. _God, it just had to be a sixteen year old me, didn't it?_ What a dangerous age that was for so many different reasons the older Dick didn't want to begin to remember.

"Father!" Yelped Damian, who looked up at The Bat incredulously.

"This boy is a guest in this house! And for however long it takes, he has a home here. Do you understand?" Both Dicks blinked at the repetition of the very words Bruce had used to comfort him the first night he had arrived at the Manor though now they were said with a lot more warning than concern.

Nightwing grinned, "You'll love him, Dami! Plus, he _is _me!"

Damian straightened out his uniform where Bruce's gloved hand had crinkled it and pouted, "Yeah and how exactly does that work?"

Nightwing explained the mission just as he had to Bruce and how the Justice League had theorized his being an alternate reality Dick Grayson from the past as Nightwing himself had no real recollection of what was going on. Damian accepted the far flung idea readily. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the idea that this new, or old, Robin was from an alternate reality.

"So," he drawled. "He's not technically you." Nightwing suppressed a groan. "So if I just happened to whip him into his proper _place_…"

Nightwing shot him a warning glare but it was the younger Dick who shot him down. "Holy ego-maniac, Batman. This kids a mess."

Nightwing grinned and Bruce glanced up at him with his own bemused smile. "Nice," Nightwing chimed, laughing at his duplicate's use of his long-forgotten catch-phrase.

"Damian, it's late. You should get some rest," Bruce not-so-subtly hinted for his son to leave. The boy's face contorted first to surprise, then anger as he began to rebuttal, but a quick look from his father shut him right up. Before he left, Damian threw a wicked glare towards his new adversary who only antagonized him further by waving and smiling sweetly.

"You're a brat," Nightwing laughed once Damian was gone.

Dick shrugged, "What does that make _you_?"

Nightwing sighed, ridiculously bewildered by the situation he had somehow managed to find himself in. "Incredibly exhausted!" He gave his signature two-fingered salute before waltzing in the direction of his bike. Dick followed for a moment, confused.

"Wha… Where are you going?" He asked, glancing between his older self and Bruce.

"Home," Dick answered, straddling the motorcycle and revving it to life.

"But…"

The young vigilante gave a tight smile and nodded to Bruce, "Yeah, have fun with that!" With that Nightwing flew out and away from cave on his way to Blüdhaven, leaving a smirking Bruce with a lost little bird.

"Why doesn't he live here?" Dick asked, turning around to face Bruce squarely.

Bruce swallowed and was once more relieved that his cowl shielded the majority of his face as he gazed back into the hurt and confused and beautifully blue eyes of the boy in red, green and yellow. "Like Damian said, Nightwing is his own man now." It was a response that was said in such a way that Dick only had more questions, but being Dick, being Robin, he knew Bruce well enough to know that that was as good as he was going to get.

"Fair enough," he said, following Bruce as he sat at his computer and began entering data into a case file. Bruce felt his heart skip a little when the teen perched by his side on the arm of the chair. Despite not being _his_ Batman, this Dick seemed perfectly content to carry on with him as per usual. Of course, Bruce hadn't had a kid as physically open and touchy as a youthful Dick in a very long time and the feeling of such closeness had been… missed, surprisingly so.

Bruce cleared his throat, suddenly very embarrassed. "Aren't you tired?" He asked lowering his cowl to see the screen with his own eyes.

Dick began to swing his leg, shaking the chair and Bruce smiled. "No. Besides," he began. "We're all suited up; why don't we have a night out on the town?"

Bruce fought the urge to grin as he glanced between the screen and the beaming face of the sixteen year old. "Seriously? You just were transported through space and time, you're not even sure how much like _your_ Batman I am or not and you want to go out on patrol?"

Dick's voice was tinged with a slight whiny plea, the very sound Bruce used to hear before his resolve would ultimately crumble and he would give in to the boy. "C'mon, boss, when do I _not_ want to go out on patrol with you?"

Bruce's attention was completely stolen by that word. Dick had always called him 'boss'. It didn't mean 'boss' and it didn't mean 'father' either; it meant something a little more. That was their way. Dick was the soldier and Bruce was the boss. Innuendo for whatever their partnership was. But Dick hadn't called him that in years. God, Bruce missed this kid.

He didn't know how long he had been starring into those bright blue eyes, but when he finally came back to his senses, Bruce sighed deeply and shook his head with a small, supposed-to-be comforting smile. "Not tonight, Dick."

Dick, though smiling, whined and grabbed onto his armored arm, tugging slightly. "Aw, c'mon!"

_God, had he always been this clingy?_ Bruce huffed. "How about we _both_ go to bed? Will you sleep if you know I'm not out on patrol without you?" Dick seemed to mull over the suggestion before pursing his lips and sighing.

"I guess that's as good as I'm going to get," he conceded. Bruce rolled his eyes but paused when he realized he was actually playing along. He hadn't felt this relaxed in so long; it was terrifying how only a few hours with this Dick had been able to unwind him almost completely.

"What am I going to do with you?" Bruce asked, shutting down his monitor and raising to his feet. He moved to one of the changing stalls and removed his Bat-suit, replacing the armor with sweats. He came out and paused, noticing Dick was still in his Robin costume. "Hm," he thought. "There should still be some of Dick's clothes upstairs." Of course the uncertainty of his statement was totally false. Bruce knew very well that all of Dick's clothes were still neatly pressed and folded in his drawers in the room he had left untouched for years.

"You mean _my _clothes?" Dick smirked.

Bruce responded with his typical grunt and led the way up the stone steps and into the manor. It wasn't until then, of course, that Bruce remembered they weren't the only inhabitants of the manor.

"Good Heavens!" Alfred exclaimed, his hand to his face in shock as he spotted the boy climbing through the hole in the wall previously covered by the grandfather clock.

"Alfie!" Dick exclaimed joyfully. "I was beginning to wonder what a horrible thing it would be if this universe didn't have you!"

"Master Bruce!" Alfred said, baffled. "Did I just step into a portal to 2006?"

"Interesting choice of words!" Dick laughed. "'cause _I_ just stepped through a portal to 2013!"

Alfred eyed Bruce with guarded suspicion and Bruce nodded, "I'll explain soon. Right now, Dick needs his sleep."

"I shall go make some tea in the meantime," Alfred said, contented. He gave a curt nod, "Sirs." He left and Bruce was left wondering just how the old man handled all the craziness that came with being The Batman's butler.

Bruce leaned against the door frame watching Dick take in the state of his room. "It's exactly how I left it," he said, noting the stuffed elephant on the pristinely made bed.

Bruce gave his typical grunt in acknowledgement but began to flush brilliantly as the Boy Wonder dropped his short shorts shamelessly without warning. Dick didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary as he continued to remove his clothing and change into more comfortable sleep wear. Bruce averted his gaze until he was certain that everything was modestly covered. He swallowed the lump in his throat and blinked, vaguely aware that Dick had been carrying on a conversation the entire time he had been stripping as if it were the most casual thing in the world. He knew it must have happened countless times, that Dick dressed and undressed in front of him, because he definitely could remember how that shouldn't have come as such a surprise, but Nightwing, _his_ Dick, hadn't for a while been as prone to revealing his… Bruce swallowed again.

"You're not listening to me," Bruce heard Dick state. It wasn't a complaint; just on observation.

"Uh…"

Dick gave a small smile, "'s okay. _My_ Batman does that a lot too." Another grunt of acknowledgement. "Goodnight, Bruce." Bruce nodded and turned to leave, but immediately after he had hit the lights, Dick's voice pulled him back.

"I… uh…" Bruce starred at the boy who seemed suddenly embarrassed, which, after practically showing Bruce everything, was a bit of a shock. Then it hit him. It would be at least another year until Dick stopped sleeping with a night light. Bruce smiled in the dark. He moved deftly across the room and kneeled against the wall, searching for the switch that would turn the elephant-shaped bulb on in the corner of the room. "Thanks," Dick said, meekly. Bruce was once again halted on his way out the door as Dick asked another question. "Uh… that kid's not going to like, strangle me in my sleep, or something, right?" Bruce made to say 'no, of course not', but he suddenly wasn't entirely sure and made a mental note to check that Damian wasn't planning something after he thought his father had gone to sleep.

Instead of reinforcing Damian's innocence, Bruce's response was a little more personal than even he had anticipated. "Nobody's going to hurt you with me around," he said and he was embarrassed by the sheer honesty of the statement. Nightwing had been right to warn him to be careful. Already at this rate, Bruce wasn't sure he'd be able to give up the boy once the amulet was recovered.

Despite the soft glow of the night light, it was difficult to make out Dick's reaction, but his heart skipped a beat when he responded quietly, with just as much uncensored honesty as Bruce had used. "I know."


	4. You're Not Being Careful

Batman was stumped. Not stumped per say, so that was entirely the wrong word to use. He just… didn't have the resources; which, when you're a multi-billionaire with all the toys and gadgets under the sun, isn't something that happens all too often. Thankfully, word had spread of the original Boy Wonder and he didn't have to worry about calling in the troops. Tim was well on his way back to Gotham and Dick had even said Jason was eager to see the cause of all the excitement.

"Okay," Nightwing started. "So what are we calling you?"

His younger duplicate swung gracefully between the uneven bars with little to no effort and Nightwing was only slightly jealous of the obtuse lack of scarring on his exposed skin. Of course there _were_ scars; lots of scars. But not nearly as many as the twenty-four year old had amassed.

Dick laughed and flipped through the air, landing deftly beside Nightwing. "Uh… what's wrong with Dick?"

Damian audibly huffed and even added in his little 'tt' sound for good measure. Both Dicks ignored him. "No, no, no… _I'm_ Dick."

"_No_, you're Nightwing," Dick corrected.

"How about 'Dickie'?" Nightwing suggested.

The teen gave him a look that the young adult, quite frankly, would've been shocked not to receive. "Yeah, good idea, _Dickie_," Dick taunted and Nightwing swore he heard Bruce laugh behind them.

"Okay but seriously, 'cause this is getting annoying, how about you go by 'Rick'?" Older Dick suggested.

The teen paused and seriously contemplated the name change. "What? Like, what Dad tried to call us before Mom cemented 'Dick'?" Nightwing chuckled, remembering the few brief arguments his parents had about what nickname to use for their son. The teen pursed his lips, then shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

Bruce turned around, taking several files to a nearby drawer. While he walked between the two Graysons he commented, "Rick and Dick? Like _that's_ not going to get annoying."

"Hey boss," Rick called and Dick flinched at the title. Bruce grunted to show he was listening. "When are we going to get this show on the road?"

Bruce focused on the papers in front of him but responded, "We're waiting for backup. And…" he paused, which wasn't unusual for Bruce, but something in the timber of his voice made Rick nervous.

"And…?"

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to go with us," Bruce stated, making his way back to the computer. He made careful care not to make eye contact with either Grayson. Dick's eyebrows shot up, but he kept quiet, deciding that if Rick were offended, he would object well enough on his own.

And object he did. "_What_?" Damian's smirk was so obnoxious that Dick was even offended. He smacked the boy upside the back of the head warningly who replaced his look of joy with one of silent content. "What are you talking about? Bruce, I'm Robin!"

"Exactly, you're _Robin_. You're too young," Bruce stated coolly and Dick took the moment it took Rick to process exactly how offended he was, to give Bruce a few words of advice.

"Um," he murmured loud enough for Bruce to hear. "Have you forgotten who you're dealing with?" Bruce took in Dick's warning, yet helpful stare then glanced back at the boy who was now seething. He groaned just loud enough for Dick to hear. "Yeah, wrong move there _boss_." Dick was right. For some reason, he had been the only one Bruce had seriously treated like an adult since day one. It had been a helpful way to parent the child when it came to teaching him how to fend for himself, but when it came to disciplining or restraining him, Dick never liked to submit, at least, not to being made to feel like it was discipline or restraint. In that regard, the other Robins had been far easier to control.

"I'm…" He glanced at Dick, then back to Rick. "…sorry. I only meant, you're not _my _Robin. It would be wrong of me to risk someone else's partner."

"Good save," Dick whispered. Bruce resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

The utter fact that Bruce had actually _apologized_, no matter _how_ forced it sounded, was enough to make Rick nod and accept his fate of being stuck back in the cave. "Fair enough," he said with a slight pull to his lips which Dick recognized as a look of flirtatious resignation. He frowned. If Bruce never noticed Dick's subtle hints when he was younger, there was no reason that he would notice them now. He hoped. God, he hoped Rick would restrain himself.

Bruce only nodded and said, "Good soldier." This, of course, didn't help ease Dick's anxiety as, even though Bruce now had his back to the boy, Rick was rocking on the balls of his feet and biting his lip mischievously at the praise. Dick silently prayed Damian would remain as blissfully unaware as his father when the rev of a motorcycle, shortly followed by a second, interrupted his thoughts.

Tim, followed by Jason, sped into the cave in full costume, ready to meet the boy whose insignia they had borne so proudly. Said boy, thankfully had stopped eyeing Batman's rear end, and was now sizing up the new meat. Dick liked to think he had something in common with each of his brothers. It wasn't his proudest admission that the characteristic he shared most with Damian was his hatred for having to share Bruce. Time and maturity had tempered this ugly side of Dick; time and maturity that Rick had yet to experience.

"More posers?" Rick asked, defensively. He was undeservingly rewarded by a squeeze to his shoulder from Bruce who seemed to not want any violent interplay between his boys. Damian certainly provided enough as it was.

"More brothers," Dick corrected and he was deservingly rewarded with a small, thankful smile from Bruce. Rick, still being held back as a warning, maybe to both him and the others, hmphed and crossed his arms. He was obviously putting on a show. Dick could instantly tell Rick was more curious than defensive, though there was still that show of possessiveness as he stood firmly between Bruce and the other boys. Dick groaned internally. This was going to be a long however it was going to take for Diana and Zatana to find that amulet.

"Whoa!" Tim exclaimed, a brilliant grin plastered all over his face. Though the teen was slightly older than Rick, the two leveled out around the same height which seemed to irk Rick. Damian had been easy to ignore due to his small size, but now these two, one being much taller, were encroached on his territory. Tim held out his hand in an overtly friendly gesture. "Tim Wayne!"

"_Another _Wayne?" Rick asked a little hurt, looking up at Bruce.

"_Drake_," Damian spat, still sitting resentfully in the corner. Tim frowned exasperatingly at the youth.

Rick looked back at the teen and seemed to figure he was more of a friend than an enemy and took his hand with a soft smile. "Adopted?" Tim nodded and was slightly impressed that the boy had instantly put two and two together without any outside information. Of course, no incarnation of Dick could match Tim's intellect.

Rick looked over Tim's shoulder at the rougher looking man in the leather jacket. "So you must be Jason," he nodded and Rick said something Dick felt vehemently guilty for even hearing. "I heard you got some blood on my uniform." There was a silent pause and Bruce shot a look at Dick who was as equally stunned at his younger self's crude bluntness. Of course Rick had been given a brief history of his mantle, but warning him _not_ to bring up Jason's death wasn't something Bruce thought he needed to do.

Jason shoved his hands in his jacket pockets as a slick sneer spread across his lips. "I heard you like being bent over the hood of the Batmobile by the big guy." Dick wasn't sure which was more abhorrent: the apathetic joke about Jason's death, or the insinuation that Dick wanted Bruce like that, especially in front of his own son who was now trying to deduct the true meaning behind Jason's words.

Dick, being highly offended, warned, "Jason, you-"

But Rick interrupted him with a playful chuckle, "I like this one."

Dick paused and shrugged, "Whatever."

The boys all laughed, except Damian who still didn't quite understand why Grayson would want to be bent over the hood of the Batmobile. "Father, why would-"

"Nothing, Dami, it was just a low-brow joke with no foundation," Dick said, focusing his attention on Jason who only shrugged with a faux-innocent smirk.

Bruce, obviously wanting to change the subject as quickly as possible, began, "If we're all through with introductions, we should get to work." Bruce then changed into Batman in tone and timber as he explained how the super villain, Bane, was smuggling a new batch of venom through the docks. This was what he had been not-exactly-stumped on earlier. While Bane would be overseeing the arrival of the toxin, he had also hired several heavy hitters to guard the shipment from one bat-shaped vigilante. Batman could take Bane, on the right day with the right temperament, but he wasn't sure how well he could manage alone with Bane, Copperhead, Clayface and Solomon Grundy. That was where his boys came in. Batman finished his briefing and paused for questions he knew weren't going to come. He had trained them all well enough to understand the first time.

Of course, he wasn't including Rick who raised his hand playfully as though he were in class. Batman raised his eyebrows sharply under his cowl at the boy's infinite youthful energy. Tim laughed slightly and Dick smiled, though felt slightly bashful.

Rick waited to be called on and began jumping up and down making small, 'oh' sounds. Batman outwardly sighed which even drew a chuckle from Jason. "Yes, Rick?"

"Okay," he started, tapping the tips of his fingers to his lips. It was an innocent enough gesture, Dick realized to anyone who didn't know better, but the more he watched the youth, the more he was painfully reminded of the inappropriate infatuation he had had for the Dark Knight at that age. "So, what if, you all get captured and I'm the only one that can save you?"

Damian was awfully offended. "Tt," he pouted.

"Can I come then?" Rick finished.

Batman took a moment, but remembering that any incarnation of Dick was unlikely to stay behind for long, allowed himself to humor the boy. "Only if that becomes the case," he grunted.

"But it won't," Dick said. "We're too badass."

* * *

"How 'badass' are we again, Nightwing?" Red Hood grunted angrily as he was heaved into a suspended cylindrical tube by the shackles around his wrists.

The older hero frowned, struggling against his own shackles, "I may have spoken too soon."

"This is all _Drake's_ fault!" Robin spat, jingling the metal holding his arms above his head.

"_Red Robin_!" Red Robin shouted, irritated beyond belief that the boy would first, place blame where it didn't belong, and second, use his civilian name while they were clearly all at the mercy of their captures.

One of the lackeys chuckled while he sealed Red Hood's container shut and left the four heroes to their own devices in a large warehouse. Batman's intel had evidently all been fabricated in the hopes that he would summon his infamous partners for this mysterious enemy to gas and capture. There had been no Bane, no venom, no fight. Just a moment of confusion followed quickly by a flash bang and the inhalation of a foreign knock out gas none of them had come in contact with before.

"Enough!" Batman growled as his youngest began an immature round of who-can-make-the-ugliest-face-at-the-other.

"Indeed, I prefer when my prey are silent," came a cold voice from the doorway and all recognized the icy tone. Deathstroke stepped closer so as to be better seen. "Did you like me newest gas? I made it just for you sense you inoculated yourselves to the rest of my arsenal."

Nightwing growled, "Let us go, Slade."

The mercenary tutted, "I'm afraid I can't do that, little Bat. I have my orders."

"And a large lump sum waiting in your bank account," Batman added coldly which made Slade laugh.

"But of course!" He regarded them all greedily. "I _was _told to bring you all in _alive_, but that's no fun. Which of you want to have a good fight before being sent to your doom."

"Uh…" Nightwing said, staring at the flash of yellow that suddenly streaked across the ceiling. "I don't think you're going to get a fight from any of_ us_."

Batman craned his neck over to give his former ward a questioningly frown. Nightwing's tone had something, playful, about it. Nightwing smirked and nodded to the rafters above. "Three, two, one…"

"Hey, Slade," a cocky, youthful voice called. Deathstroke turned around, alarmed and then shocked. "I'd ask if you usually see double but, that would just be rude, wouldn't it?" Robin chuckled at his own joke about Slade's missing eye and flipped gracefully away from the knives thrown towards him.

"What is this?" The mercenary questioned, beyond confused. He had seen this boy before, a long, long time ago.

Robin flipped through the air, avoiding the spray of bullets with ease. He landed in front of the man and kicked the semi-automatic from his hand and smacked him several times across the head with his staff. The staff was separated into twin sticks which were used in a barrage of nerve cluster strikes. Nightwing grinned. Batman's chest swelled ever so slightly.

Of course, Deathstroke's initial shock subsided and he was able to land a pretty solid aikido kick to the teen's sternum. Robin was winded, but with such an audience, he wasn't going to disappoint. He pulled out his grapple and flew up into the rafters where the light did not reach. Slade sent random streaks of bullets after him and overhead whenever he heard the slightest creak. A wave of nostalgia made it hard for Batman to swallow as a carefree, exquisite laughter filled the corners of the room. Batman knew this trick so well. Robin had learned at a very early age how to throw his voice. Batman knew he also must've learned how his laughter made him a little bit less angry at the world.

Deathstroke, surprisingly tricked, not being used to fighting a Dick in Robin form, shot where he thought the voice had come from. While he was distracted, Robin plopped down from the ceiling and kicked the man with all his strength in the back. Slade was thrown forward onto his stomach but when he turned over with yet another gun, the teen laughed as though it were the most fun a kid could have, flipping through the air and smacking away the weapon. Slade gave a muffled _oof_ as the boy landed on his chest.

"Sleepy time, Sladey," Robin grinned, blowing a white powder into the mask of the mercenary. The powder was so fine, that even if it took a moment longer than normal, the granules would find their way into the man's throat and nose, rendering him unconscious. Robin chuckled and spun his staff before leaning with a cocky grin. "And _that_ is how a Boy Wonder does it, gentlemen."

"I could've taken him quicker!" Damian challenged.

"Yeah, but I'm not the one that got captured," Robin rebutted.

"Uh," Nightwing said, shaking the chains around him. "Hey, hi… you kind of did. Now put that ego of yours away and let us out, please and thank you."

Robin smirked but sighed and made his way to the control panel. He punched in a hack and a moment later the four men were lowered to the floor. Red Robin was the first to thank the retro Boy Wonder.

"Thanks, bro! Good job!" Robin seems to wonder whether or not his is a tone of sincerity or patronization but then grins and blushes at the unrestrained praise.

Batman notices how much such a compliment affects him and again he feels a pool of slight regret at how he raised the boy. He should've been praised more, he should've been loved more. He looked at Nightwing who was helping Jason removed the chains around his ankles and sighed. He supposed the boy turned out alright. More than alright, but it could've always been better.

Once back in the cave, Jason and Tim decided that hitting the hay would be the best possible option since the knock out gas had a mighty dizzying after affect and going back out on patrol would probably have ended very badly. Before either were allowed to sleep, however, Alfred drew blood and forced in food. Even Jason accepted the parenting, though with several snide and crude mutterings he dared not repeat any louder despite how much Alfred insisted he speak up if he had anything to say. Dick followed his brothers up to bed, though had somehow managed to escape the Alfred gauntlet as he skipped up the steps to the manor.

Damian, as lethal and self-sufficient as he was, had fallen asleep in the Batmobile on the way home. Bruce sauntered as happily as he would allow himself back into the cave after tucking his youngest in to bed in the way that Damian would probably object to if he were any more conscious and aware of the hugging and forehead kissing. He sat himself in his swivel chair in front of the computer in his sweats before he remembered there was still one boy who was unaccounted for.

"So boss," the teen said sweetly and for a moment Bruce was sure he had been thrown back in time but the aching of his muscles quickly reminded him what year it was. They were alone so Bruce decided the boy could safely be Dick without any chance of misunderstandings.

"Yeah, Dick," he answered, not watching the boy, but feeling him rest on the arm of the chair. Their arms were carelessly brushing and Bruce felt warmed by the way Dick didn't seem to mind, or even notice their closeness.

"Are you really like this?" He asked and Bruce blinked, not sure he understood the question.

"What do you mean?"

"Old, Bruce," Dick laughed and Bruce's lips tightened but there was still humor in his eyes.

"Old?" He asked, a hint of both warning and joking.

Dick smiled and somehow managed to move himself from the arm of the chair to a handstand position of the desk beside his keyboard. His mask was off so when Bruce watched him, he was met with big, bright blue eyes. Dick kept his legs above his head with ease and Bruce was somewhat curious if he was actually trying to show off.

Dick moved so that they were inches away from each other. His eyes were gleaming with challenge. "It's still pretty early, boss and you're sitting in sweats with that partner of yours already all tucked in for the night. You've gotten old," he snickered and Bruce smirked but felt the truth of his words in his bones.

Dick swung his legs under him again with practiced grace and positioned himself directly in front of Bruce, his legs spread, resting on either arm of the chair. Bruce grunted with both pride and annoyance. He was definitely showing off his youth now. "That's what happens, Dick. In case you haven't noticed, _you're_ upstairs asleep too," he said, referring to the young adult sleeping in the guest suit upstairs.

Dick frowned. "Why isn't he Robin anymore?"

Bruce furrowed his brow and sighed, "You're sixteen, right?" Dick nodded. "Then I know you're already getting tired of living in an old man's shadow, right?" Bruce didn't think the assessment would have had such an effect on the teen so he was rather surprised when the boy began to gape and flush brilliantly as though he had been caught looking up porn, and Bruce knew exactly what that face looked like.

"I… I didn't… but…" he stuttered and Bruce wasn't sure what it was he was trying to spit out but he felt very uncomfortable so decided to show mercy.

"Do you really want to go out on patrol?" He asked, already not wanting to change back into the Batsuit, but wanting more to see the boy happy again. Dick stopped his pathetic rambling and nodded excitedly.

"Finally!" Robin yelled, whooping as he fearlessly flung his lean body this way and that through the night sky of Gotham.

Batman followed behind the bird, suppressing a grin at the boy's uncensored show of sheer delight. This was how it was supposed to be and it kind of made him feel bad that this was the only way he had ever really wanted it. He loved Jason, Tim and Damian; truly he did. They were his boys; his sons. But this right now, this was how the Dynamic Duo was supposed to feel. A calm and constant show of control and protection contrasted by a wild and erratic flamboyant show of youthful wonder. Again, Nightwing had been right; Bruce needed to be careful.

They landed deftly on the roof of Wayne Enterprises, the tallest building in the center of the city. Of course, that hadn't been by accident. Batman pulled out his binoculars and began his usual sweep of the perimeter. Robin sighed, perfectly contented in the chill of the night air. He plopped himself down then stretched across the cement of the roof on his back. It was a moment before Batman realized the boy was fiddling with the corner of his cape absently and he smiled. Of course he smiled in such a way that the boy wouldn't have been able to see him smile. Such careless disregard for their situation and how dangerous it could turn shouldn't be rewarded, but Batman didn't have the heart to reprimand it either, so it was ignored; mostly.

"So do you have all the same villains too? Penguin, Dent, Joker…" Robin started.

"Mm," Batman grunted, focusing on his observation of the city below.

"Good to know you're still _such_ a great conversationalist," the boy teased.

"Mm," Batman grunted on purpose.

"It's okay to tell me stuff. Alternate reality, remember? So, do you have… Killer Croc? He's fun," Robin mused and Batman glanced at the boy and shook his head slightly.

"Yes," Batman answered, giving the boy a treat as he continued to tug at the rubber-leather hybrid that was his cape. Batman wondered if he should've nipped that action in the bud when it started as the boy seemed to get the idea that he was safe from denial as the attention shifted to the laces of his boots. Dick had always been a tactile learner; tactile _anything_, really, but this alternate Dick was a tad more clingy than Batman remembered. Or was he? The action didn't seem entirely foreign; just different.

"Robin," Batman addressed as the Bat symbol emblazoned the sky.

"Nice," Robin grinned, flying to his feet, grapple already in hand.

"Don't let Gordon see you; I don't want to have to explain another Robin to him," Batman said before sailing into the air.

Robin waited patiently for his mentor to return from the roof of the GCPD building. Well, he waited as patiently as a kid completely enamored with said mentor _could_ be. He eagerly jumped to attention as the comforting sight of a shadow flew through the sky and landed beside him.

"What's the gig, boss?" He asked and he could've sworn he saw Batman nearly smile at the use of the title. He wanted to make him smile; he wanted just to make him laugh. Dick always was ambitious.

"East Side, there's a bank robbery in progress," Batman informed and he didn't wait for the bird to ready himself before he was already back in the air.

The men attempting to rob the bank were too easy to deal with. So easy, Robin became complacent. Of course, no masked vigilante should allow himself to become complacent. It took a moment for the bird to realize that Batman was on top of him. His lungs almost completely crushed under the weight of the older man as a gun fired overhead. Robin felt his stomach knot as Batman flew off of him and proceeded to knock the gunman senseless for trying to shoot a sixteen year old in the back of the head.

Robin began to shake, but he did his best to keep his reaction to himself as he grappled to the roof of the adjacent building. Once Batman had finished tying up the bank robbers and had made sure that there weren't any more trying to sneak a shot at his partner, he grappled to the roof to join Robin.

Before Batman could even open his mouth to release the reprimand he so justly deserved, Robin was first to speak. "I'm sorry; I wasn't paying attention," he blurted out and the pained and resigned waver of his voice suggested that though his apology was sincere, Robin believed he was in serious trouble and was going to receive a tempest from the Bat for being so incredibly stupid. Batman regarded the boy and realized that, had he been a younger man, he certainly would have yelled until his throat was sore; he would've beaten the boy with his words until he was as emotionally broken and bloody as the physical injuries of the robbers. This was what Robin was waiting for. He heaved a heavy sigh. Bruce really had been so hard on Dick when he was only just a boy. Had he been a younger man, he would've given in to his anger, his anger at the thought of some nobody killing his innocent boy. But Bruce, Batman, wasn't a younger man. He was old and he was tired and he silently decided that he had yelled at sixteen-year-old Dick enough in the past that now he only wanted to go home.

"Don't be so dumb next time," was all that Batman decided to say.

The lack of venom, the lack of a threat to fire him and the lack of blinding white rage threw Robin for a loop. He gaped then shut his mouth and nodded. "Yes, boss." Robin still sounded hollow and it hurt something inside of The Bat.

Batman frowned and cupped the boy's cheek. It wasn't a foreign show of affection, he remembered doing this several times as a way to express what he didn't know how to vocalize when the boy was younger, even younger than this form. It wasn't foreign, but it was unusual enough for Robin to look a little stunned before he nodded and the hand was removed almost as quickly as it was placed.

After rounding up a few streets fights and stopping an overly clichéd purse robbery, Batman and Robin returned to the cave. By now, Dick was overtly exhausted. It was obvious and Bruce was relieved that the boy's seemingly endless source of energy had agreed to take a break and he removed his cowl and suppressed a yawn.

"Get to sleep, Dick, it's late," he ordered but not unkindly.

Dick rubbed his eyes drearily and nodded, moving to where he had left a pile of clothes to change into. He, for the second time, unashamedly dropped his pants but this time Bruce was ready for the display and turned his back on the boy before he removed his cup. Bruce was incredibly thankful that Dick stopped doing that as he aged and more incredibly grateful that the other Robins hadn't felt like striping in front of him was necessary.

"Goodnight, Bruce," Dick said through a yawn.

"Goodnight, Dick," Bruce said, watching him leave the cave. When the boy had entered the manor, Bruce turned around and frowned. He really was getting old. In his swivel chair sat a displeased and disappointed twenty-four-year-old Dick Grayson with crossed arms and firm lips.

"What are you doing?" Dick asked pointedly.

Bruce furrowed his brow, "He wanted to go out on patrol."

"So did Damian, you know, your _son_," Dick replied and Bruce clenched his jaw.

"Damian was tired, Dick-"

"_Rick_," he corrected with a touch of venom.

Bruce shook his head, "I don't need to explain myself to you."

Dick laughed mirthlessly, "I knew this would happen! What _is _it with you and not being able to just let things go?"

"I didn't bring him here, I'm just taking care of him!" Bruce rebutted.

Though Bruce could see the evidence of exhaustion on his former ward's face, the younger man stood with intense conviction and strode forward until the two were inches apart. "You're not being careful, Bruce," and Bruce was startled by the hint of a plea in his tone like he was begging him to leave the boy alone.

"What do you _want_ me to do with him?" Bruce asked, softening his tone a bit.

Dick searched his eyes, not entirely sure what he was looking for before sighing and shrugging. "Just… be careful." He paused then walked past the older man

Bruce frowned and sighed, "Can you ask him to keep his pants on?" He turned around and watched Dick walk backwards away from him and laugh.

"Why don't _you_?" Dick called back and though he had been laughing, there was a distinct lack of humor in the question that was baffling to the Dark Knight who was so used to the carefree tone of the younger man.


	5. Kinds of Love

"MOVIE NIGHT!" Dick yelled, carrying in a large bowl of popcorn from the kitchen to the family room. The manor had an abundance of sitting rooms, living rooms, drawing rooms, but there was only one family room in which the birds would agree not to throttle each other. Huddled on the one comfortable and worn couch sat Tim, Jason and Damian who were each making a visible effort not to fight for more room. Damian was making less of an effort not to annoy the other two as he sat cross-legged in the center of the couch and refused to be budged.

Dick laughed then yelled again, "ROBIN PILE!" To the horror of the other three, he leapt in the air and landed roughly, sprawled across their laps. They grunted at the sheer weight of the oldest who seemed blissfully oblivious to their discomfort.

Rick watched the show with his hands in pockets and a slight pull at his lips. Bruce, who had been walking by, enjoying the play among his children, stole him from thoughts. "What's up, Rick?"

The not-quite-a-boy-and-not-quite-a-man looked up at his mentor with thoughtful, glittering eyes. "I don't know how happy I am about there being more than one Robin, but…" Bruce watched him enjoy watching the three trapped birds fight for control of the remote while the oldest did his best to remain pinned on their laps nonchalantly munching on handfuls of buttered popcorn. "I guess having brothers is something I could get used to," he finished and smiled. Bruce smiled back, squeezing his shoulder in approval.

Unbeknownst to the original Dynamic Duo, the other four men in the room were watching their interplay with rapt attention. Dick was watching for other reasons and suddenly, one of those reasons made his stomach hurt with dread. Bruce made to leave the family room but was pulled back by a tug of the hem of his shirt embarrassingly so by Rick. Dick tried to maintain an even expression, but he knew the others were watching as Rick helplessly demanded more attention from the older man.

"Are you going out?" The teen asked with a slight lilt to his voice that shoved a lump in Dick's throat.

"Probably," was Bruce's curt response, but he still wasn't allowed to leave as Rick spoke again.

"Well, if you go without me…" he stretched the lower half of his shirt and tried to hide a smile and Dick began to shiver. "… tell me when you get back. Just so I know you're safe."

Bruce indulged the boy and Dick wished he had been an utter asshole as he gave one of his small smiles that would never quite be human sized and answered, "Sure" He left and Rick, still unaware, or unashamedly uncaring, of the fact that he was being watched, watched him go. Once Bruce was out of sight, Rick turned on his heel and left the room in the opposite direction.

There was silence in the family room and suddenly Dick felt very uncomfortable on the laps of his brothers. He jumped to his feet and sat down in the stuffy armchair that would normally have been inhabited by Bruce during a movie. He grabbed the remote from Damian's hand and avoided eye contact with his brothers who were still staring. Or, rather, Tim and Jason were staring as Damian, blissfully ignorant, stuffed his mouth with popcorn and waited for Dick to press play.

"Uh…" came the first break of the silence between the boys. Dick glanced at Tim's dropped jaw and knew that the display had been painfully obvious if that was Tim's reaction. Dick felt his ears began to redden.

"I know I make a lot of jokes, Grayson," Jason began. "But that was a little… I don't even _know_ what that was."

Dick swallowed and watched the TV screen as IP Man begged to be played. He tried to make himself as comfortable as possible and shrugged, not making full eye contact with either brother. "I don't know; alternate realities are weird," he muttered and mashed the play button.

* * *

Nightwing slipped his mask on and felt comfort behind the cool, rubbery material as he swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "Hey, Robin," he said, addressing the half-naked youth swinging from the uneven bars with nothing more than his tight black latex pants he wore during training.

Rick flipped from the higher to lower bar then dismounted with a little more than necessary flourish. "What's up, Nightwing?" He smiled, obviously a little impressed by his future self in full uniform, even if it wasn't the uniform he had first imagined.

Nightwing glanced up and saw that Batman was watching them from a distance with slight interest and he forced a smile. "I was thinking why don't you and I hit the town? Just us."

Rick beamed, "Sure! Hey, boss, can you toss me my suit?"

Batman reached down for the red and yellow carelessly strewn across the floor of the Batcave and threw it unceremoniously at the youth without a word. Nightwing frowned but said nothing of his secret concerns.

It was just barely dusk and already the two had taken quite a few no-names down who had bravely assumed justice only came when the moon was high. Of course Nightwing was grateful that they had had enough action early on so that he could get to the crux of the overarching mission without Robin being too antsy.

As the last shoots of color spread across the sky, Nightwing and Robin spread themselves on the rooftop of Wayne Enterprises, which was one of the safest perches for a bird to relax in the city and Nightwing felt like the place would serve as a poetic backdrop for the ensuing conversation.

"So… is anyone going to tell me why you're not Robin anymore or is it really that big of a deal that it has to be all cloak and daggery when I ask?" Robin began playfully.

Nightwing smirked, "Alright." He said, "Fair enough. I was fired."

There was a long pause. "What!?" Robin then added with more certainty, "Batman would never fire me." There was a slight pause and he said softer, "But… we have been fighting a lot lately…" Nightwing shut his eyes behind his mesh lenses and sighed quietly.

"Yeah… that's going to happen…" he said with a hint of empathy.

"I like your Batman a lot more; he's a lot nicer," Robin said and the unbridled feeling in his tone was enough to make Nightwing grimace. At least he was working the conversation where Nightwing ultimately wanted it. "He lets me… feel freer…" Jesus Christ, Nightwing was going to stop this now.

"You know," he began and he braced himself for the shock of what revealing his deepest darkest secret would bring, even if it were only to himself. "I had a crush on him, too; when I was your age." Surprisingly, actually saying it out loud after about a decade of keeping it hidden was nothing but soothing. A knot in his stomach unwound and he breathed steadier.

Robin's reaction was immediate as his flipped around on his stomach, slack-jawed and began to stutter, "What!? No, no, no, I don't… I mean… I…" Nightwing simply met his gaze and waited for the inevitable. Robin stared incredulously before a look of resignation crossed his face and he laid back down on his back. "Yeah I have a crush on Batman."

"I know; its unbearably obvious, bro," Nightwing laughed, not unable to find humor in the situation despite how uncomfortable it made him.

"Is… is that why he fired you?" Robin asked, voice trembling only the slightest.

"No," Nightwing replied, though his suppressed feelings didn't help at all when it came to his rebellious teenage years. "For a master detective, Bruce never found out. I mean, there's no way he knew."

"Does he know now?" Robin asked and Nightwing was struck by the uncensored glimmer of hope in his tone.

"No," he replied firmly. "That can't _ever_ happen."

Robin was obviously upset by the finality of Nightwing's statement. "Does he love us?" He asked innocently and quietly.

Nightwing answered immediately, "Of course he loves us."

"But…"

"But _never_ like how… never like that," Nightwing finished and was stung himself. It had been a while since he had to repeat those words to himself and no matter how many years passed, it still ached with a dull pain. But the kid had to know, he had to stop this crazy path to ceaseless heart ache.

There was a long silence and for a moment, Nightwing was sure that Robin was going to bolt; just get up and take off. So when Robin spoke next, it was utterly surprisingly. "I just…" he sighed. "I just want to fuck his living brains out!" Nightwing almost choked then began laughing hysterically. Robin joined him, evidently feeling an unbearable weight lifted from his shoulders at his insane admission. "You know!?" He asked through his laughter.

"God, I _know_!" Nightwing replied, wiping the tears from his cheek from the incessant giggling. "When Jason said that about bending over the Batmobile I thought you were going to explode!"

Robin chuckled, "But I'd wana be the one bending _him_ over. _Oh God_, can you imagine?"

Nightwing groaned and smacked himself in the face, "I really try not to nowadays."

The laughter died down and Robin asked, a little more seriously, "So… you still love him?"

"Mm," Nightwing grunted a half response. Robin lifted himself around to get a better look at his older counterpart.

"That's not an answer, _Bruce_," he quipped and Nightwing smirked.

"There's no point, Robin. There's no point," he said with as much firmness as he could manage despite how it stung him as well.

"But you never ever _tried_," Robin pleaded.

"I didn't _have _to," Nightwing replied, now looking Robin full in the face to better get his point across. "You need to stop this. Stop flirting with him and stop… thinking that stuff…"

Robin stared back in disbelief, "You don't think I've tried!? It's not easy to risk your life every night for a man who would bleed out for you and _not_ … not _feel_ this… this…" Robin struggled for the right word and Nightwing cut him off, knowing from experience that he would never be able to name the feeling.

"He will _never_ want to be with you like that. He will _never_ see you as more than a partner. Hell, your voice still cracks! You're Robin; that should be enough," Nightwing pleaded for him to understand but he knew he had approached this all wrong when Robin stood defiantly with clenched fists.

"You're wrong! He _does_ love me. You're just a coward! I'm brave, braver than you, and I'm not going to waste my life pining after someone I _know_ will always love me like _you_ have. You're pathetic," Robin snapped and pulled out his grapple.

Panic rushed through Nightwing's system, "Robin! Dick- stop!" But Robin was gone and Nightwing groaned, having totally failed.

* * *

Robin trudged into the cave and slapped his mask off with a little too much force as his skin protested against the sudden ripping motion. He stepped out of his uniform and without breaking stride, Rick had managed to change from Robin into sweats while crossing the cave to the stairs up to the manner. Before he left, however, he spared Bruce, who had not turned around to greet him, a goodnight, before flying up the steps.

Once Rick was surely well within the manor's walls, Bruce released the air form his lungs and slumped back into his chair. God, why did he have to bug Robin's uniform? He walked over to the yellow cape and plucked the small, bat-shaped bug from the light material and crushed it between his thumb and forefinger.

Alfred had always said his curiosity would get him into trouble one day, but he never thought it would involve his former ward admitting to fantasizing about dominating him over the hood of his car! God it was so wrong! So wrong. Wait… it was wrong, right?

Bruce groaned. For the hour it had taken Rick to return home, Bruce had been agonizing over the simple fact that he _wasn't_ repulsed by the image. That was what repulsed him. Of course Bruce loved Dick, just as he had said. He always loved him. But after hearing such an honest confession… was _that_ what that feeling was when they were alone? Was that what made partnering with Dick different than partnering with Jason, Tim or Damian? Already he had admitted preferring to fight alongside Dick despite his high regard for his sons, but was it love? _That_ love? Dick wasn't his son; he had never been his son.

Dick had also been right when he said Bruce would bleed out for him. He would; he would do that and so much more, but was that love? _That_ love? Was that why it felt different with Dick than it did with Superman or Alfred or any other? _Did_ it feel different with Dick? Did he love him, had he loved him like that the whole time but years of subconscious repression wasn't letting him recognize it? Bruce's head was swimming; he felt weak.

The part of his brain that never stopped piecing puzzles together suddenly exploded. All those little things about Dick that had made him different, made their relationship different, the closeness, the openness, it had all been spurred on by the boy's infatuation with him! When Dick would sit on the arm of his chair, when he would pull at his shirt to get his attention… Bruce felt so foolish for thinking that that had just been Dick. World's Greatest Detective, his ass!

But it wasn't infatuation, was it? He frowned. Maybe hearing the youth admit to his desires hadn't come as such a surprise; maybe Bruce had known the whole time. But when Dick, _his_ Dick, had admitted, or had avoided admitting, that he _still_, after all those years of betrayal and pain and anger and love for others, wanted him, no, loved him, he was completely thrown. That boy, no, that man, he loved Bruce so much that he kept his distance. That thought hurt a little more than anything else.


	6. It Should Be Enough

Nightwing crouched over the ledge of the building and watched amused as a mother scolded her son for being out past his bedtime. Blüdhaven was winding down and the falling snow would impede on the criminal activity for the night, so the young hero allowed himself to relax somewhat. That was, until, a familiar slight flutter from behind him turned his stomach. He waited until the boy and his mother below had retreated from the cold back into their brown-stone before he stood and The Bat came to stand beside him. Dick didn't want to talk first; not to him quite yet.

"Diana found Hecate," Batman informed in an even tone. "She has apparently made a deal with the goddess for possession of the amulet."

"So the brat is going home?" Nightwing asked with forced cheer. He saw Batman's questioning glare and he forced a grin and shrugged. "There's only enough room for one Dick in this universe… oh… that sounded really bad…" he grimaced and thought he saw a flash of a smile cross Bruce's lips. "Did you have to come all the way out to Blüdhaven just to tell me that?"

"Thought you might want to say goodbye," Batman said and they both knew that didn't really answer the question but Dick accepted it.

Dick sighed, "Is it Thursday yet?"

Batman's brow furrowed behind his cowl, "No. It's Wednesday." What a weird question.

Dick was visibly nervous and he said, "As long as you and I just remember that he's nothing but a random little kid, I think we'll be alright." What the Hell was Dick going on about now? Batman gave him an even more questioning glare as the younger man's words made no sense. Instead of answering the unasked, however, Nightwing grappled into the night, leaving Batman alone on the rooftop utterly bewildered. That man drove him insane. Bruce flinched. Was that love? _That_ love?

* * *

There was silence throughout the manor and Bruce couldn't decide if it was a blessing or a curse. Tim had reluctantly taken Damian back to Titan's Tower with him at the younger's request and Bruce's insistence and once those two had gone, Jason felt awkward in the house with only Bruce and Alfred, and the other Dick, so he left shortly after.

Bruce clicked away at his keyboard, losing himself in his work when there was a light pressure on his arm. He felt his heart flutter and he hated it. He hated that he loved it. Was that love? _That_ love? God, he didn't know. He didn't have to look up to know that Dick was perched on the arm of his chair. He continued typing and allowed the boy's presence. Did he love Dick? Yes. Was he sexually attracted to a teenage version of Dick? No. Wait… why did he have to specify which version of Dick he was or wasn't sexually attracted to? Damn.

The pressure was relieved and Dick rested himself against the desk with crossed arms and a troubled expression. Bruce glanced between him and the screen before deciding to inquire.

"Something wrong, Dick? You should be going home today," Bruce said.

There was a slight pause before Dick shrugged, "What day is it?"

"Thursday," Bruce said without thinking.

"Cool," he said without any feeling.

Bruce sighed internally. "Dick, what's wrong?"

Dick glanced up at him from the floor and he was slightly taken aback by the depth of those blue eyes. "I know you bugged my uniform," he said calmly.

Bruce was proud of his ability to restrain his reaction as his face was stoic as ever while his stomach flipped as much as Nightwing. They locked eyes for a moment before Bruce turned back to keying away at his case file. "How did you find out?" He asked calmly.

He heard the smile on his voice when Dick replied, "I didn't have to find out. I just know you, Bruce." Bruce paused before continuing with his façade of not being intensely invested in the conversation.

"So…?" He asked, trying to get to the crux of the teen's distress.

"So," Dick began and suddenly he was demanding every ounce of Bruce's attention as he sat on the desk directly in front of him, his legs on either arm of the chair. Bruce sat back and swallowed. Dick told him to be careful; Bruce should learn to listen to ambiguous warnings like that. "You heard what I said, everything and… you're not mad." Dick was staring desperately at Bruce, searching him. Bruce didn't know what he was looking for.

"No," he murmured but he was very uncomfortable. He had no idea what Dick was thinking. Well, he had a bit of an idea what Dick was thinking and it frightened him. It frightened him that he still hadn't backed away.

Dick searched him thoroughly and Bruce never knew if he had found what he was looking for but something glinted across his blue eyes for a moment before he started to move. He slowly, like a lion stalking his prey, inched off the desk and moved towards Bruce, moved onto Bruce. Dick's knees jutted against the back of the chair as he cautiously straddled the older man, not quite low enough for touching of places.

Bruce sunk himself as far back into his chair as possible but it didn't stop the teen from gently moving closer. He held onto the older man's shoulders but did not close the distance so that their chests were not quite touching and he hovered slightly over his lap. He was still a good little soldier, desperate for this closeness but adhering to some form of dignity.

Soft fingers brushed across his jaw and Bruce's breath hitched, his eyes shutting. Was that love? _That _love? Dick was so close he could feel the warmth from his breathing on his lips. His lips that Dick noticed her parted and ever so inviting. Bruce opened his eyes and was enraptured by the perfect blue disks staring back at him; back into him, into his soul. Yes. Yes, this was love. This was _that_ love.

_I just know you, Bruce_, and oh God, did Dick know him. Suddenly, that part of his brain that never stopped working out problems exploded. Bruce loved him; no, not him, Dick. He loved Dick. He loved _his _Dick. He was his partner; in every single conceivable sense of the word. He loved the laughter, he loved the subtle unspoken conversations they had in the meeting room aboard the Watchtower, he loved that Bruce would give his life for him and he hated how it was the same in reverse. He loved despite everything, Dick had always come home and he loved that despite everything, Dick still considered him home.

Suddenly he knew why it felt different being with Dick. He loved Dick, but not as a son as the other Robins and not as a lover as Selina or Diana. He loved Dick as a missing half of himself, as one loved a limb. He couldn't live without him and whenever he had tried, it had been the darkest days of his life. Dick was more to him than a love or a partner; they were joined by something stronger. The Dynamic Duo; Yin and Yang.

Bruce stared into those blue eyes and his breath hitched when he realized they were coming closer. A gasp, almost unheard, though he knew Dick must have felt it, escaped his mouth as a wonderful, soft pressure massaged his lips. Dick was kissing him. Dick was kissing him. Now Bruce was kissing Dick. He felt the warm tip of Dick's tongue poke his lips, politely asking for permission that Bruce gave, again without thinking. Bruce was surprised when Dick's tongue, warm and wet and hungry, slipped inside him and rolled against his own, claiming ownership of the inside of his mouth. Bruce felt a slight pressure against his thighs as Dick lowered himself gently, more comfortably on top of him and Bruce instinctually wrapped his arms around his waist. Dick moaned at the unexpected show of affection and put his hand on the back of Bruce's head, deepening their kiss with a long-withheld longing.

Bruce sighed into the kiss which was more than enough encouragement for Dick who pushed against the back of the chair, forcing Bruce to move forward and allowing Dick the wrap his legs behind him and move further up on him, closing the distance between their chests and…

Bruce was surprised by the firm prodding now on his belly button and it took him a moment to realize exactly what it was. It was Dick. He was aroused; he was erect. The epiphany excited Bruce. Was he sexually attracted to Dick? Yes. Though suddenly he felt sick; there was a sixteen-year-old hard on his lap. No, he thought. There was a younger version of the man he was in love with; the _man_ he was sexually attracted to, on his lap.

This wasn't _his_ Dick, he knew. But after realizing just how profound a love he had for the man, Bruce rationalized that he could be with this one, this alternate reality version of Dick, right here and right now and nobody would ever know. Nobody would ever have to know how Bruce felt, not Alfred, not Robin, not the Justice League and certainly not Nightwing. He had to keep things the way they were for selfishly putting his strongest relationship at risk was purely out of the question. But here, with this Dick, he could fully express all the repressed and recently discovered longings without fear of consequence. He would be leaving later that same day; nobody would ever know. God bless alternate realities.

His justification led the opening of the floodgates as he realized this was his one and only chance to love Dick; to love Dick the way he deserved to be loved. Dick moaned, feeling the growth beneath him. He took no time in encouraging the burgeoning erection with small, soft rotations of his hips. Bruce was absolutely enthralled. It was so simple and he was no blushing virgin by far, but somehow Dick moving on him like that was the most erotic feeling he had ever experienced. He gripped the boy's hip bones and began his own gyrations, matching the rhythm Dick had set.

The pace quickened and Bruce broke their kiss, focusing on the feeling of Dick's hard cock grinding against his own. It was so good, despite the layer of sweat pants between them. Dick moaned a series of oh, oh, oh and Bruce watched his face relax at the pleasure. He wasn't attracted to the idea of how young this boy was, but it didn't help him to make him feel bad that _his_ Dick didn't seem to age much between sixteen and twenty-four, at least not in the face. He gave a low throaty chuckle and Dick snapped his blue eyes on his. His cock pushed harder onto Bruce.

"Mmnnn, Bruce," Dick murmured into his ear as he began to nip at the older man's ear, eliciting a few jerks and wild bucks. Dick chuckled at Bruce's uncharacteristic lack of self- control.

"God, Dick," Bruce breathed. "You're so…"

Dick smirked and licked Bruce's lips playfully. "Yeah, boss?" Bruce's cock twitched at the word and he stopped trying to convince himself he wasn't at least a little bit attracted to prospect of Dick's youth.

Dick was moving harder and more assertively against Bruce and though his thumbs dug into his hip bones, he knew he was slowly losing control. Then he knew he never really had any control when it came to Dick. That thought was the most beautiful epiphany.

"Mm, you're so…"

"Say I'm good," Dick ordered, using Bruce's shoulders as an anchor, driving himself faster and harder against the length of his throbbing cock. "Tell me I'm a good soldier. Tell me I'm _such _a good soldier."

"You're _so_ _good_, Dick. You're a good soldier; you're _my_ good soldier," Bruce obeyed and was rewarded by another beautiful moan from the teen.

"Bruce," Dick begged, practically ramming himself on top of the older man now with unbridled pleasure. "Please, I want you… I want you inside of me…" he breathed and Bruce chuckled.

Dick looked at him surprised by the noise. Bruce grinned, a mischievous sparkle in his eye, "No you don't." Dick realized in an instant what Bruce meant and he returned the impish grin with glee.

"You're right," he growled. Suddenly there was no illusion of Bruce ever having been in control as Dick threw Bruce's arms over his head and pinned them there with one hand and used the other to trail down Bruce's torso. He flicked Bruce's nipple and bit the older man's lower lip, forcing sounds of pleasure out of Bruce's mouth. His free hand slipped further down and his first two fingers invaded the security of Bruce's waistband, grazing the tip of his thrusting cock. Bruce bucked and groaned.

"L-let me," and Bruce knew what he was trying to say but despite his dominance, Dick was still embarrassed to ask him to let him be fucked. "I…" and then he found the words and they almost made Bruce want to cry. "Let me make you happy," he breathed, kissing into Bruce's moan.

This wasn't his Dick. This wasn't the boy he had raised. This wasn't someone he would ever have to see ever again. This was someone safe he could love for one brief moment. It was safe to say yes so Bruce nodded and moaned. Dick grinned and began to remove Bruce's sweat pants. This was safe; this was right. Soon this Dick would be gone so it was safe to love him the way he craved to be loved. It was safe to give him everything he wanted; everything he could never give Nightwing, his Dick. It was safe and-

"I knew you loved me," Dick chuckled. "_He _tried to tell me you didn't." He laughed. "It's not like I'm nothing but a random little kid."

_Oh. God. No._

And suddenly, that part of his brain that Bruce wished would just shut up sometimes, exploded. This wasn't safe. This wasn't right. This was Dick. This was _his_ Dick! This was _his_ Dick that would be going back to 2006 with the inerasable memory of almost fucking Bruce over the hood of the Batmobile! Be careful, his ass!

Bruce put his hand on the sweat pants which were now riding dangerously low and pushed Dick with the other hand that wasn't busy trying to retain some dignity. "Dick," Bruce managed and he tried to make it sound more forceful but it sounded so pained Bruce almost felt his heart break.

"What's wrong?" Dick murmured, very aware that he was being removed from his treasured prize. "Is it your age?" He asked so concerned and Bruce was pretty sure his heart cracked just a bit as his stomach threatened knotted painfully. Oh God, this was _his_ Dick! "Don't worry, just think about how I'll make this happen when I get back to my universe!"

Bruce frowned, pushing Dick fully off of his lap. "How do you know _that_ Batman won't say no?"

Dick blinked, agonizingly confused. "Because you didn't," he started. "Because you love me."

Bruce silently apologized. "I never said that," he spat, using all his anger at himself against the poor, defenseless boy.

Dick visibly flinched. "Wha… what?"

"This isn't going to happen," he stated. "This is wrong." He frowned. It sounded hollow compared to his lustful, yearning moans only a minute ago. He wished Dick had warned him; had told him. Bruce kicked himself in the head. Dick _had _warned him to the best of his ability. What did Bruce expect? That the young man was going to come up to Bruce and say, 'don't let yourself get stuck alone with me or I'll try to fuck your brains out'? Dick had desperately tried to stop this from happening and when he failed to stop himself, he tried to stop Bruce. He knew he was killing the boy now, but he wasn't going to disappoint the man. He wasn't going to totally mess up this boy before he had a chance to become a man on his own. He felt so sickeningly selfish as just moments ago he was ready to completely ruin some other Batman's Robin.

"But…" Dick stuttered and Bruce realized Dick _had _helped him more than he thought. He'd practically written him a script. After all, he knew they were bugged the whole time.

"I will _never_ love you like that, Dick," Bruce lied.

"But I want…"

"You're already Robin! That should be enough, don't you think?" Bruce said and suddenly that part of his brain that he was seriously considering putting a bullet through, exploded. He was Robin now, this boy, but soon in his time line, that would be stolen from him just as painfully as Bruce's love. Now it all made sense. Bruce knew he had overstepped his boundaries plenty of times when he was trying to parent Dick and that was a huge part of the teen's anger towards the older man but now it really all made sense. The depth of Dick's despair after Robin was stripped of his title, the years it took to build bridges that just wouldn't hold after Bruce would say something that was ever so slightly wrong, the infuriating need Dick seemed to have to fuck any woman he knew Bruce had had… it was all given so much of a deeper meaning. They were already on a rocky road and this incident, this underlying, catastrophic memory that Dick wouldn't be able to tell _anyone_ about, was going to destroy the Dynamic Duo as the world knew it. Dick was a stronger man than Bruce had ever thought.

The boy in front of his was shaking and on the verge of tears, his kiss-swollen lips trembling and Bruce had to use every single drop of willpower not to hold him and recant. "Get out of my sight," Bruce ordered, disgusted at how easy it sounded for him to dismiss the boy.


	7. Confessed

Hecate was one of three spirit sisters, according to Wonder Woman. Artemis, the goddess of virginity and the hunt, had evidently been intrigues by the Amazon's quest to find her spirit sister's amulet so had made a deal with the queen for the talisman. Wonder Woman wouldn't disclose exactly what it was that she had agreed to give the goddess, but Superman had guessed it had something do to with the virgins waiting outside the meeting room.

Batman barely noticed the scantily clad models of modesty as the door whooshed open. He was the last to arrive to the meeting and he wished, for once, that he didn't draw so much attention. Nightwing stood in the corner of the room, looking anywhere but at him. At his feet sat Robin. Both looked like they wanted to be so far away and it hurt Bruce to the core.

Artemis, who Bruce had just then realized had been staring at him the whole time, spoke. "Are we ready?" She asked to Wonder Woman.

"Robin?" Diana turned to the boy who looked so utterly small and hollow. He didn't respond until Nightwing placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Robin shot up at the touch, then, noticing Diana's questioningly smile, nodded.

"Who was the fool who interrupted the spell?" Artemis asked, but there was no spite in her tone. She simply thought herself far above the insignificant mortal men.

Nightwing raised his hand, "That would be me!" Batman tried to accept his smile as one of honest joy like he had seen before, but now, all he could see was the crying, broken teen that he had been hiding the past seven years.

"Place your hand on the amulet," Artemis insisted. Nightwing did as he was told, still pretending that Batman wasn't even in the same room as him. "Interesting," Artemis said as the amulet began to shine. The whispered ancient Greek to the object and the shine began to pulse in response. "Hecate's spell was meant to bring an ancient hero to cause irreparable harm to your world," Artemis informed casually and Batman was irked that that was a possibility. Shouldn't someone be looking after shit like that?

Nightwing gave a sarcastic short laugh, "Guess someone got what they wanted." Robin hung his head in shame and Batman frowned, unable to look at the youth.

"Begin the incantation, Huntress," Diana commanded. She really had very little patience for the gods who chose to intervene with the fates of her world.

"This will put him back exactly where he came from?" Nightwing asked hesitantly.

Artemis replied with a silken voice, "It will be as though he never left." Nightwing nodded and the goddess began her spell casting.

A haze of gold began to form in the meeting room before the same color began to shimmer and bind into a disk of light behind the immortal being. Her tone was low and precise and it chilled Nightwing's spine as it never wavered or faltered. Suddenly a flash from the disk told the others that the connection to the alternate reality- the past- had been cemented. Artemis ended the spell and nodded at the boy who began to rise cautiously.

He stood in front of the event horizon, shaking only slightly. Batman suddenly realized he had no idea where he was going. Nobody had told Robin he wasn't from an alternate reality. Batman looked at Nightwing. When did he realize it had actually been his Batman all along who had loved and tossed him away? God the things he must have thought Bruce had done with the others… the heart ache this man must have endured… all ignored each time he had come back to stand by Bruce's side… Nightwing really was a much stronger man than Batman had ever given him credit for.

"Go on, kid," Nightwing smiled reassuringly. "Everything will be alright." A much stronger man.

Robin nodded and with a final glance back at Batman, stepped through the golden portal and disappeared to a much angrier and innocent time of his life. Batman watched the portal flicker, then die out. Artemis, already looking bored, regarded Diana.

"I believe we have business to settle," she said.

Nightwing didn't care to stay in the room any longer. He wouldn't have shown up at all had he not been needed for the spell. He turned roughly on the balls of his feet and without so much as a brief glance towards Batman, he quickly marched out of the room. Batman felt his heart crack beneath the symbol that was supposed to protect him.

* * *

Wherever Nightwing had gone after he left the Watchtower, it hadn't been back to his apartment in Blüdhaven. Batman had waited for five hours before he realized the man would not be coming back. He probably knew Bruce was there. He probably was somewhere just outside the apartment, waiting for him to leave. Bruce just wanted, needed, to see him. He needed to explain and he needed to apologize and he needed to know that they weren't going to go another five years of pretending that they didn't know each other except for when Batman sent out a distress call only to have Nightwing vanish after the crisis was dealt with. Bruce's chest felt empty and cold. He felt all the weight of all his mistakes and laughed at their insignificance compared to the Atlas-like feeling he had now.

He left the apartment but continued to check back in for a week straight; each visit holding the same result. Dick was gone. His locater had gone off the map and though Blüdhaven's crime rate was still being managed, the detective couldn't find the man to save his life.

The pain was indescribable. For a fleeting moment he had experienced true happiness. A feeling that had blocked the pain of his parents' murder and had numbed the ache of time and all it had scared him with. For a moment he had felt alive. For every agonizing moment after, he felt like breathing would kill him. It was just like his luck to finally discover the bliss of real love only to have it bruised and bloodied, bleeding out with a punctured lung.

When he came to the conclusion that Dick was gone from his life, Bruce sunk into Batman and Batman sunk into his basest vices. Thugs were left broken on the side of the road; villains were terrified and hid for their lives in the woodwork of Gotham. The Bat was craving revenge. Revenge against the universe; revenge against himself. This was when he was most dangerous; most feared and least beloved.

Tim and Jason kept their distance though the former had tried several times, in vain, to deduct the underlying issue. Damian, as intrigued as he was by this new, down-to-business, take-no-prisoners side of his father, began to fear the man he had grown to admire and even love was slowly slipping away and he had no idea how to return things back to the way they were. It was Damian who found Dick.

"I'm worried about Father," was all the text read but Dick knew that if the youth had actually made such an effort to express such compromising feelings, there was definitely something wrong. It seemed almost comical that while Batman had been scouring the city's nooks and crannies, high and low, all it took for Dick to reveal himself had been a simple text.

Nightwing batted down the remaining hired gun with a little more force than what was strictly necessary but he shrugged. He'd live. It was the familiar flutter from behind him that concerned the vigilante. Nightwing hadn't taken as many self-concealing procedures tonight as he had been using and he knew that there was a chance that the Dark Knight would find him but now that he was here, Nightwing lost his nerve. He almost turned around to see him but his feet wouldn't move. Instead his hand gasped his grapple and he flew skyward.

He should've known that just flying away wouldn't have deterred the man as Nightwing slipped into his penthouse apartment and lifted the mask from his face, becoming Dick Grayson. He didn't have to turn the lights on to know that there was a rubber and leather clad man standing in his living room. It was both comforting and unnerving that he could always be there despite how hard Dick tried to keep him out.

Dick swallowed and took a deep breath before slowly reaching for the floor lamp and switching it on, revealing The Bat who stood as stoic as a gargoyle. Neither men spoke for what seemed like eternity. Dick didn't want to speak first. God knows he had always been the first to reach out and bridge the gap between them so many times in the past but now, now he was so helplessly lost for words. Bruce seemed to know the man was struggling to understand what to say so he mercifully and bravely spoke first.

"Please stop," he asked quietly but it still sounded a little like Batman.

Dick licked his lips and fidgeted with his fingers. "Stop what?"

"Stop preemptively distancing yourself like I'm going to shut you out," he answered solidly and Dick was a little surprised by the amount of command in the tone, as though it was more of a desperate man's final plea.

"You've done so before for a lot less," Dick rebuked. He wasn't mad at Bruce, not as much as he was at himself, but he was so afraid of hearing those words again. He couldn't handle hearing those words that had ripped his soul in two seven years ago. He'd rather never see Bruce again then hear him cement their platonic relationship with such venom.

Bruce's response wasn't totally uncharacteristic, but he used a tone that Dick had heard so infrequently that he was moved by the sincerity of it. "Dick, I only want to talk," there was a pause. "Please." It wasn't often that Bruce acted like the incredibly feeling human being that was hidden behind the cowl so when he tried, it sounded small and broken.

"Alright," Dick allows, because how could he refuse such an honest voice? He moved to the fridge in the kitchen that was joined to the living room and pulled out two beers. He held one up and nodded to the man. "Want one?" He asked, popped the cap off of his.

Bruce didn't drink often, if at all, so when he answered, Dick knew he was feeling as anxious and uncomfortable as he was. "Please," he said, holding out his hand for the alcohol. Dick gave him the drink and took care not to touch him, despite the fact that both hands were armored. Dick chugged the bottle he had opened and pulled out a second for himself before Bruce had even taken a sip.

With some Dutch courage, Dick made his way to the armchair across from the sofa Bruce was standing beside but still didn't feel ready to be comfortable in the older man's presence. They stood across from each other awkwardly.

"What do you wana talk about?" Dick asked, rubbing his finger over the lip of the bottle in his lap.

"Why did you lie?"

Dick smirked, "Which time?"

"About not remembering."

Dick eyed the Dark Knight and took a long swig from the bottle before answering. "Alright, let's send a teenage Bruce to a future Alfred and have him say…" he took another drink. "You'd try to distance yourself from something like that too if you could." Dick spat out a mirthless laugh. "God that kid's going to be so fucked up. Every three seconds he's going to switch between fantasizing about rough sex to rough murder."

"We should track down every doctor I had give you a psych-eval and revoke their licenses," Bruce said and the comment would've hurt, had it not come with a ghost of a smile and the removal of the cowl.

Dick tapped the neck of the bottle. "Yeah," he muttered with a hint of forced humor.

"Guess I _did_ teach you how to lie pretty well," Bruce said and it was unsettling how easy it seemed for the man to assume the role of the conversationalist that Dick just couldn't play at the moment. Dick tried to smile. When Bruce smiled, Dick found it was easier and he sat down in the armchair, sinking himself into the cushions as much as possible. Bruce took a drink from his beer and sat on the sofa.

"Should've taught me how to keep it in my pants," Dick said and he was little stunned by his own comment. The first beer must have hit his head already, but he didn't regret it as Bruce chuckled lightly. It was weird how easy this was becoming.

"At least now I know why Barbara would always come out to patrol limping before we even fought anyone. Are you always so aggressive?" Bruce asked and Dick choked on his beer.

He wiped the liquid from his mouth and stared, utterly shocked by the casual question. Once the initial shock had passed, Dick began to laugh, covering his face with his free hand. "God, Bruce, are we really talking about it like this?" Bruce laughed in his typical low and reserved way. He figured the worst part was over; they both already knew too much for him not to just say 'fuck it' and go about repairing their relationship as openly as possible. If making Dick laugh was how they could get back to some semblance of normalcy, than Bruce was going to have him in hysterics if he had to.

Bruce took a deep breath. "When did you realize?"

Dick gave a sarcastic, humorless laugh and swigged his beer. "Oh I don't know, about an hour after mini-me popped out of that portal to Hell!"

Bruce frowned. "All that time…"

"I never thought it was going to be like this," Dick said sadly. "Did you realize it was me because of what I said?" Bruce was quiet, but he nodded. Dick nodded to himself as well and suddenly found his beer very interesting as his studied the bottle. "What… what would have happened if… if I hadn't said anything?" He glanced between the bottle and Bruce before he watched the man shift uncomfortably and rest his chin in his hand, staring at the wall to the left of him. Dick's spine tingled. Bruce refused to meet his gaze and that told him everything that he had been wondering for seven years. It would've happened. It really would've happened. The thought terrified and excited him in tandem.

"Huh…" Dick breathed and Bruce shifted his gaze to the young man then back to the wall.

"What?" He asked, glancing at Dick.

Dick shrugged and pouted. His stomach was flipping and knotting and he said, "Nothing… I just…" and he began to cry. The tears slipped past his defenses in an instant and fell silently. In the dim lighting, it was only Dick's wiping of his cheeks and slumped demeanor that told Bruce the man was crying. Bruce fidgeted and made to stand several times but felt so useless, not knowing what was right and what was wrong to do. It was only when Dick lost all control of his tears and actually began to sob that Bruce stood and tried to hug the younger man who was still trying to hide away in the armchair.

Dick didn't waste any time in trying to fight him off. Instead, he grasped desperately at his cape and pulled him closer, shuddering with his very audible sobs. Somehow, as Dick continuously pulled him in, Bruce had managed to take Dick's place on the armchair, with the younger man crying into his chest, curled up like a child on his lap. Bruce wrapped both arms around the man and tried to sooth him as he continued to wrack against his body.

"I'm sorry, Bruce… I'm so sorry…" Dick managed to spit out and Bruce felt his heart crack for the third time.

He squeezed as firmly as he could without hurting the younger man and rested his cheek against his head. The shame and pain that this man had lived with for so long was spilling out all at once and Bruce felt entirely to blame. He murmured over and over, "Shh, _I'm_ sorry. You're not to blame; you're not to blame, Dick." He felt the young man calm down in his arms and eventually the only involuntary movement was that was the residual hiccupping as he found comfort in Bruce.

Bruce stroked his gloved hand through his tangled, black mess and kissed the meeting between his hairline and his forehead. Dick sighed and wrapped his arm around Bruce's armored chest. As much as it shouldn't have been, Bruce felt whole and complete with Dick in his arms. He felt right.

"Are you still mad?" Dick asked and he didn't sound like the twenty-four year old hardened vigilante. He didn't sound like a man who had lived life under the guise of The Bat and he certainly didn't feel like one of the most senior member of the Justice League. He sounded like a small, lost, little boy who had just seen his parents fall to their deaths.

"Dick," Bruce started. "I was never mad. At you." He added the last part and Dick huffed. The younger man shifted himself so that they could look into each other's eyes.

"You carry so much," Dick said. "I'm so sorry I put this on you as well."

Bruce would've laughed if the situation was one that would allow for laughter. "You didn't force me to…" he paused and blinked. "I did my part myself, Dick. If anything, I should be proud of you for being so brave."

"And stupid," Dick added, but he had obviously been touched by the praise. Bruce had been right, Dick realized. It wasn't like he couldn't have smacked down the kid before anything had happened. He had wanted something to happen. He had wanted him. It made Dick's breath hitch.

Bruce furrowed his brow at the younger man's perplexing shift of facial expressions but he didn't have long to think about it before his mouth was suddenly covered by a soft warmth. Bruce laughed into the kiss as Dick massaged his lips like a tender, attentive masseuse. Bruce broke the kiss enough to smirk, "You're so brave." Dick grinned but continued to press his mouth forward. Bruce parted his lips to move into Dick, but the younger man gained the upper hand as his shoved himself quickly passed Bruce's lips. Bruce moaned and moved his hand down Dick's back to wrap around his strong, toned thigh.

Dick broke away, distressed. "Are you sure you want this?" He asked and Bruce smiled warmly, brushing a strand of hair away from Dick's eye.

"Are you?"

"I've been sure for as long as I can remember," Dick replied.

"Then this is all I want," Bruce said and Dick grinned. He delicately began removing his gauntlets, keeping Bruce's mouth very occupied. Next to go were his boots, which would have been awkward for anyone who wasn't a superior acrobat. Bruce sensed the removal of Dick's armor and started to take off his own only to have his fidgeting fingers smacked away. Bruce was startled but did as Dick silently ordered. If anyone was going to have the pleasure of undressing the Dark Knight, it was going to be Dick.

The younger man had a fully intimate knowledge of the Batsuit and knew with impressive accuracy how to remove every piece. Before he could bring himself to reveal Bruce's firm torso, Dick broke away and grinned. "We should move this somewhere a little more comfortable," he suggested and Bruce responded with a low, hungry moan that made Dick's spine tingle.

Bruce snaked his arm under Dick's rear end and lifted, keeping him level enough to continue to taste him inside of his mouth. Dick moved his lips to Bruce's ear, blowing hot air onto the sensitive skin. Bruce resisted a growl of pleasure as he struggled to open Dick's bedroom door. The knob refused to function properly and Bruce grunted, kicking down the infuriating slab of wood. Dick gasped, then giggled uncontrollably.

"I'll pay for that later," Bruce promised. He carried Dick to the messy, unmade bed and gently covered him over the mattress. Dick continued to remove the remaining articles of armor and had to push him up to revel in the exposed treasure that was Bruce's taut, scarred, beautiful chest. He was so strong and it made Dick happy to know that all that strength would defend him to the death. Finally, the only thing left covering Bruce were his briefs and Dick was more than ready to revel in that treasure as well.

Bruce seemed to know Dick was about to take off his one remaining article of clothing, and as desired as the removal of his cup was, which was frustratingly impeding on his growing member, Dick was still almost completely suited up. Bruce put on firm hand on the younger man's shoulder, holding him down and though Dick wasn't particularly pleased with the restraint, he figured it only fair that Bruce were allowed to undress him as well.

While Bruce was concentrating on Nightwing's series of latches and buckles, the acrobat managed to remove the older man's cup with deft hands. Bruce grunted in surprise when he felt himself grow against the thin material of his briefs. Then he moaned with pleasure as he felt himself stiffen against a warm, strong hand. He looked down at Dick who was staring back up at him under thick lashes, lips parted seductively, with his hand massaging his erection slowly.

Bruce felt a tightening in his chest and he grinned mischievously. Dick was shamelessly in control. It was time his former ward was put back in his place. He ripped the rest of Nightwing off and exposed the gloriously lithe and lean muscled figured of Dick Grayson. Dick chuckled at the older man's look of approval but when he tried to slip Bruce's briefs off, the older man held him back by the shoulders. Dick looked up at him bewildered before Bruce lowered himself onto the man and began nipping and sucking at the tender skin of his neck.

Dick squirmed under Bruce as he moved lower, kissing his chest, then cheekily licking the very tips of his nipples. Bruce was slowly gaining control and Dick was having a hard time picking which he wanted more: to dominate his former mentor or milk the unbridled attention as long as possible. When Bruce pinned Dick's arms above his head with one large hand and chuckled, Dick chose the former. The older man trailed his free hand down to Dick's black, tight briefs. Dick groaned as he struggled to resist the urge to buck into Bruce's hand. He tried to think. He grinned. His former mentor had miscalculated. Never try to pin an acrobat and not secure his legs first.

Dick kicked out not unlike how he used to when he and Bruce would wrestle as Batman and Robin. Bruce's balance was thrown just enough so that when Dick swung his leg around, he was able to pin Bruce over on his back and straddle him triumphantly. Dick grinned at Bruce's look of surprise that was quickly replaced with a look of pained lust as Dick rocked against his hot, hard cock. Dick laughed quietly, enjoying the feel of Bruce under him.

Bruce tried to raise his arms but they were held down sharply and Dick lowered himself, slipping his tongue greedily into Bruce's wet, wanting mouth. "Don't fight it, boss," Dick purred and Bruce produced some low guttural noise. "Just relax." Bruce nodded and Dick smiled, kissing him lightly. "Good."

Dick released Bruce's arms and when the older man didn't move to regain dominance, Dick slowly moved lower, trialing wet kisses down his torso. He found each and every scar he knew he had some part in producing. A bullet that had been intended for the Boy Wonder, a knife that would've pierced Nightwing's heart… Dick kissed each one as a special thanks for their sacrifice.

Bruce watched the memorial and resisted the urge to cry. He opened his mouth to speak but words failed him as Dick found the largest seam of his flesh. The raised, white ridge that had nearly killed him. Dick stopped and rested his head on the scar, wrapping his arms around Bruce and holding himself there for a moment, worshiping the place where Bruce had willingly taken Amazo's heat vision that would have killed Dick.

Dick kissed the spot once more before he finally reached the barrier between him and the throbbing cock beneath. He glanced up at Bruce and the glitter behind his blue eyes made Bruce's cock twitch in anticipation. He watched Dick remove the briefs and felt embarrassed as he bounded up in front of Dick's face like a desperate teenager. Dick didn't seem to notice Bruce's flushed cheeks as he was investigating Bruce's member with rapt devotion.

Bruce bucked unintentionally when Dick wrapped his hand around him. Dick chuckled at the response and began to move his hand slowly along the length of the hot organ, up and down. Bruce resisted a moan and Dick felt challenged. He was going to elicit those beautiful sounds if it killed him.

Dick smirked and lowered his lips to lightly brush against the tip of Bruce's turgid head. Bruce's eyes went wide and he snapped his attention south, unsure if what he thought he felt was real. His jaw dropped with shock and pleasure as Dick slipped Bruce into his soft, wet mouth. He sucked the head passionately while pumping the length long and slow. Bruce let out a broken groan and though it was progress, Dick wanted more. He lowered his head, letting more of Bruce in and bobbed up and down, using a flicking motion with his wrist on the remaining organ. Bruce was so large that though Dick had dreamed of swallowing him whole, he wasn't sure he should attempt such a feat just yet.

Dick moaned lightly as the sweet and salty taste of Bruce's precum mixed with his saliva. Bruce bucked further into his mouth and Dick immediately held a strong hand against his hip bone to prevent any further movement. Dick removed himself from Bruce and stared up at the older man.

"S-sorry," Bruce muttered and Dick's smile was fascinating.

"Good soldier," he said silkily, not breaking eye contact. God, Bruce was in trouble. The intensity of Dick's gaze made Bruce's soul shiver. God, he loved this man.

Dick returned to the thrilling worship of his aching member and Bruce tried so damned hard not to move. It seemed to take forever to Dick, but after a while, Bruce began to whimper soft noises of ecstasy. Good enough… for now. Dick removed himself and traveled back up to kiss him fully. Bruce sighed into the kiss, tasting the saltiness of himself and loving that it was there.

As Dick lowered his hips, Bruce was reminded of the infuriating fact that Dick still had his briefs on. He broke the kiss and ordered, "Take those off." Dick regarded the man for a moment, obviously deciding whether he wanted to listen to orders or not, before obliging graciously and slipping out of the offensive material. Dick kissed the man again but was stopped as Bruce lightly traced his jaw with calloused fingers. Dick relaxed and felt the exhilaration of his exposed erection on top of Bruce's.

"Dick," Bruce whispered almost as a prayer, staring straight into his bright blue eyes. Dick felt himself grow warm throughout his entire body and smiled. Bruce had never once told him he loved him, but in that moment, Dick knew. Dick knew he was loved as intensely as he loved him.

Dick gave Bruce a chaste kiss and murmured, "On your knees."

Bruce's eyes widened and he felt his heart race, knowing what the meant. He paused, unsure how he should react. Was he really going to let Dick wholly and fully own him? Dick moved to let Bruce reposition himself and saw the younger man stroke himself, waiting for Bruce to raise. Bruce swallowed and answered himself. Yes, yes he was.

Bruce flipped himself around and was surprised when he felt Dick stretched over top of him, lovingly kissing his neck. He was positioned awkwardly and Dick chuckled. "You're tense," he observed. "Here," he offered, softly guiding Bruce's body into a more comfortable state. Bruce felt so cared for but when he realized he was indeed far more comfortable, he was vaguely hit by a stroke of jealousy as he wondered if he was the only man Dick had been with.

Bruce's concerns were washed away as Dick began to rub his thumbs over Bruce's tightened muscles. Bruce let a small moan escape his lips as his partner delicately unknotted years of carrying the weight of the world. It struck Bruce how intimately Dick knew him despite this being their first mutual exploration of each other. Bruce lost track of how many fingers were working his back so was excited by the sudden pressure on his balls. Bruce felt the fingers lightly travel up till they rested around his entrance. He shuddered.

Dick whispered, "Trust me."

"Always," Bruce replied.

He could practically hear Dick's grin. Slowly, Dick worked a finger into him. It was tediously slow but as a slight burn followed, Bruce knew Dick was being careful. The last thing Dick wanted was to hurt him. After Bruce became accustomed to one finger, Dick slid in a second and stretched the hole slightly, pushing further in each time. Bruce hissed as he experienced a pleasure he honestly never thought he would know.

There was a pause, "Are you okay?"

Bruce nodded, "More."

Dick chuckled, "Of course." He pumped his fingers deeper and pushed in a third to Bruce's delight who slid himself back onto Dick's hand. It was a wonderful sight to Dick to see the large man of anger and vengeance and justice made to a trembling mess of putty by his touch. Bruce's body was made to endure and adapt so when Dick had added a fourth finger, the initial pain of the stretching flesh was soon replaced with an intoxicating pleasure.

Bruce groaned as he failed to restrain himself any longer and began to rock in rhythm with Dick's fingers. "Are you ready, Bruce?" Dick asked softly, placing a warm, comforting hand on the small of his back. Bruce stopped his gyrations.

"Yes," he admitted. "I want… I need you, Dick." Dick paused. There was a profound and wholly deeper meaning behind those words than just lustful desire and he could hear it in the firm and warm sound to his voice. Dick felt his heart flutter dangerously.

Dick moved so that he was in the perfect position. Bruce shut his eyes as he felt the soft skin of Dick's swollen head rest against his entrance. Dick grabbed the older man's hips delicately and pushed slowly, just as he had with his finger. Bruce resisted the instinct to growl as he was stretched around Dick's width but he couldn't restrain the sharp hiss that made Dick stop.

"Keep going," he said, desperate for the man to be inside him fully.

Dick stroked his hind quarters gently as he pushed further and deeper in and Bruce was sure there couldn't possibly be any more to enter. The younger man began to leave him, only to return, rocking Bruce against the mattress.

Dick sighed which became a moan as he fulfilled his longest, most repressed desire. Bruce's toes curled at the delicious pain of the younger man pushing him forward and pulling him back. Slowly, Bruce was able to focus on the rhythm and began to match the strokes once he was sure it would not bring more pain. His movements encouraged Dick who rolled his hips against him and steadily sped up his thrusting. Bruce never thought Dick could feel so damn good until he suddenly realized with a jolt that the younger man _did_ have more the enter him as Dick's cock slipped deeper and deeper and just as Bruce was about the object to the unexpected feeling of being utterly stuffed, he felt an exquisite sensation and somewhere in the back of his mind where his sensible thoughts had all gone into hiding, he realized Dick had found his prostate.

Dick must have somehow realized this as well as with each ensuing thrust, Bruce was wracked with pleasure. It didn't take long for Bruce's resolve to crumble and sweet, arousing whimpers and grunts poured from his mouth.

"Oh _God_, Bruce," Dick breathed. "S-so tight..."

"Har- harder," Bruce moaned into the sheets. When Dick didn't respond quickly enough, Bruce commanded more firmly, "Harder!"

"_Fuck_!" Dick exclaimed, gripping Bruce's hip bones tight enough to leave bruises. Dick never imagined Bruce would let him inside of him, so when he appeared to _want_ him, Dick couldn't contain his excitement. He rammed harder and deeper until the sweet sound of his balls slapping skin filled the room. "That's it," Dick said more to himself out of sheer astonishment. "That's all of me!"

"Mnnngh," was all Bruce could manage and he was fucked and owned by his former ward. Need filled him and Bruce tried desperately to reach for himself while Dick's pounding disorientated him. Dick somehow noticed Bruce's struggle and gently replaced Bruce's hand back on the bed where it had been. When Bruce began to whine in protest, Dick explained.

"Let me take care of you, Bruce," he said with more gentleness than his furious pounding would suggest he could muster. Bruce felt his belly warm at the sincerity of Dick's tone then felt his body shake as Dick grabbed hold of him. The initial attempt to satisfy both needs was difficult and sloppy for Dick, but soon enough he was pumping and pounding Bruce in a beautiful melody. Dick _had_ always been a tactile learner.

Dick felt Bruce twitch in his hand when Bruce said, "D- Dick, I'm going to…" he was interrupted by his own cry of ecstasy as a sticky, hot stream covered Dick's hand and hit his belly.

"OH GOD YES," Dick cried, each word punctuated by a triumphant slap of balls against skin, as his deepest, darkest dream finally came to reality. The knowledge that he had made Bruce cum was all he needed to finish. He saved his roughest thrusts, those reserved for sheer control over the older man, for last as he rammed Bruce down into the mattress harder, harder, harder until he tipped over the edge and released his hot seed inside of Bruce.

Dick collapsed over Bruce's back, both breathing erratically as though they had forgotten how to breathe in the desperate mission to get off. Dick kissed the back of Bruce's neck and gently lifted himself up, pulling himself out of Bruce's well-fucked hole. Dick reveled in the vision of his cum dripping from the man before he plopped himself down on the mattress beside his partner.

"Only took seven years," Dick breathed, grinning. Bruce rolled over onto his back and chuckled. Dick moved closer to the older man who welcomed the intimacy with an opened arm that wrapped around his back and rest on his shoulder protectively. Dick watched the rise and fall of Bruce's chest and silently prayed he would never have to see it stilled. Dick imagined that were Bruce anyone else, this would be the moment where he would confess his true and undying love. Dick looked up and saw Bruce had been watching him as well. Their eyes locked and Dick knew everything had already been confessed.

* * *

**So there you go! :)**


End file.
